
Qass. 
Book- 






FEZ & WEM7SS 

EDITIOK. 



A^r 



&^6 



SKDoQc 



^ 
>- 
^ 



OF THE fe, 

AOTIMG AMERXCAiar THEATER > 

WILD 0AT8 = 

WITH A PORTRAIT OF MR. S-RANti., ^^ 

€ (FATHER Q¥ THE AMERICAN STAGE,) J 



sm acoRas thunder. 



« 



ThePlaj'- care^Hy corrected frjm the Promptbooks of the 
PmL.lDELPHLI THEATRE 



IB3 M. Lopez, Pi'oinpter 



JPUBLU^EEB BY A.R.FOOLE, CMES^VUT STREET fc" 
FOR THE PROPRIETORS * 

And to be had of all the principal bookseller' •< m ^ 

HmTED STATES 

Price, ST'^ cents. 




J R. M. BicKiXG, PKi^.T;BK,— AH^iti 



PB,OPOSALS. 



I In presenting to the PuMic the first Numlxer rif S 
fe mg: American Theatre, tlie proprietors' teel\ pi 
5 producing a specimen of American Work.^v^iidif 
^ will satisfy their patrons, of their deterniinat*^ 
5 emolument aside. 

.■d T^^ '^''"n f "" ^'°^^' ^'^ ^'^'^^'' ^vo"l<I be combine? 
O """i-u"".^ ''^^^? """'^ P'^^f'^^t copy, witli the manner of 
[■^ exhibition on the Stage, a tksideratum to the profcssioid 
-^ an advantage to the public, in duced the late Mr Oxbi" 
^ to Gommence his edition, the usefulness of which has h 
M sufficiently tested; had that work been peculiarly adaptea 
J this country, ,t would have been arrogance in us to hk 
5 entered the lists, but it is not .—a comparison of the c^ 
^of Oxberry, With the representation on the Stage, wilfaq 
^ once show how necessarily the English plays luive been' 
^ Amencamzed, it is our object to print them ris represented ' 
^ on the American Stage, and the proprietors hope to eive 
3general_satisfactiononthishead. : 

J It is intended to embelhsh each- number with a charac^ 
^ tewatic portrait of sofficperfonner on the American hws&^-' 
^ 1 he portraits will as far as practicable fee executed by Mr. i 
.^Neagle, and the engraving by Mr. Longacre, both Ameri-i 
^ cans ; possessing talents which rank thcra high in public! 
^ opinion. • 

Jl Each piece will be faithfully printed from its respective ; 
•J official copy in the Librar>' of the Philadclpliiu Theatre. i 
^ Every exertion will be made to obtain Original American ! 
^ Dramas, which will be printed as early as possible. \ 

^ The superintendance of this Publ'ication has been as- * 
^ signed to M. Lopez, Prompter of the Philadelphia and 2 
■^ Baltimore Theatres. ^ 



^ A Number will be printed every two weeks, 
^ ed with a Portrait, in every way equal to the firs' 
^ at Thirty -seven and a half cents. 
2 Each Number must be paid for on delivery. 
'M The work will be continued if 500 subscrib 
"^ obtained. 

1^. Twenty-five proof impressions of each plate will 
^ ed, the price of which to subscribers, will be gl, to^non 
^ subscribers, gl 60 each. ii 





m? Fm^if €1©. 



js SIR geojrgf: jb i/:\'beb 



Engra.vecrt.y J.B.L.ai-Lij-acre fi-ujn ■• ^.^Miii,,.^- by J. iNeEtgle. 

:i ,,Tpez fe "W.Min -.:■• \\,\\\\ oil. 



X.OFEZ & WEMYSS' ^T^j, 

■ED IT 10 X, (^of:^'^ 



JLCTISTG AmERICASr IfBEATRXSe 1 



WILD OAT a 

WITH A PORTRAIT OF MR. FRANCIS, 
(FATHER OF THE AMERICAN STAGE,^ 

AS 

mSi C^BOftGE THUNDER. 



"JTie Plays carefully corrected from the Prompt books of the 
PHILADELPHIA THEATRE. 



B^ M.. liopez^ Prompter 



Published by a. r. poole, chesj^tut street. 
FOR THE PROPRIETORS, 

'And to be had of all the principal booksellers in the 

UKIT^D STATES. 

Price, 37§ cents. 



J. R. M. BiCKISG, FsIiTTEH,— 1826. 

fit 



1 






I 



-^^Sim^ ■ 



Persons Heptesented. 



1822. 1820. 

Philadelphia. Drury Lane.. 

Sir Geo. Thunder « , . Mr. Francis. . , Mr. Dowton. 

Harry Thunder . . . Mr. Darley. . . Mr. Penley. 

Rover ....... Mr. Wemyss. . . Mr. Elliston. 

Banks Mr. Wheatly. - . Mr. Powell. 

John Bory Mr, Warren. . . Mr. Gattie, 

Ephraim Smooth .... Mr. Jefferson, . . Mr, Munden. 

Farmer Gammon . . . Mr. Hathwell, . . Mr, Meredith. 

Sim Mr. Burke. . . Mr. Knight. 

Lamp Mr, Johnson. . . Mr. Keeley. 

Trap Mr. Bignall. . . Mr. Vining. 

Landlord Mr. Murray, . . Mr. Smith. 

Twitch Mr. Scrivener. , . Mr. Elliot. 

Sailors .,..., Messrs. Parker, Greene, &c. 

Lady Amaranth . . . Mrs. Darley. . . Mrs. W. West. 

ySmelia Mrs. Jefferson. . Mrs. Knight. 

Jane Mrs. Burke. . . Miss Kelly, 



Stage Diredtions. 



By B, H. - - - - - is meant Right Hand. 

1. H. Left Hand. 

8. E, Second Entrance, 

r. E. ------ = -- Upper Entrance. 

M.D. ---------- Middle Door. 

D. p. .-..........--. Door in Flat. 

B. H. D. -------------- Right Hand Door> 

r.. p.». .,.-......---.. Left Handover. 



^•^1 



WILD OATS. 



ACT I. 

SCENE I. — A Parlour in Lady Amaranth's Hou&t. 
Enter John Dory, l. h. 

John. Fine cruizing this ! without flip or biscuit ; 
don't know who's the governor of this here fort j 
but if he can victual us a few — {Sits l. h.) — how- 
hollow my bread-room sounds ! (Striking his sides.) 
I'm as empty as a stoved keg, and as tired as an old 
Dutchman — my obstinate master. Sir George, to tow 
my old hulk — aboard the house, ha, hoy ! (Calls.) 

Sir Geo. {Without r. h.) John ! John Dory ! 

John. I'm at anchor. 

Enter Sir George Thunder, l. h. 

Sir Geo. I don't know whose house we've got in» 
to here, John ; but I think when he knows me, we 
may hope for some refreshment — Eh ! {Looking" at 
John) was not I your captain ? 

John. Yes ; and I was your boatswain. And 
what of all that i 

Sir Geo. Then how dare you sit in my presence, 
you bluff head ? 

John. Why, for the matter of that, I don't mind ; 
but had I been your captain, and you my boatswain^ 
the man that stood by me at sea, should be welcome 
to sit before me at land. 

Sir Geo. That's true, my dear John ; (Johrt at- 
tempts to rise.) offer to stand up, and damme, if I 
don't knock you down — zounds ! I am as dry as a 
f owder match— to sail at the rate of ten knots an 



t WILD OATS. 

hour, over fallow and stubble, from my own house, 
but half a, kague on this side of Gosport, and not , 
catch these deserters ! 

John. In this here chase you wanted the ballast 
of wisdom. 

Sir Geo. How, sirrah? hasn't my dear old friend, 
Dick Broadside, got the command of the ship I so 
often fought myself — to man it for him with expe- 
dition, didn't I, out of, my own pocket, offer two 
guineas over thie bounty to . every seaman that 
would enter on board, her? Hav'n't these three 
scoundrels fingered the shot,^ then ran, and didn't I 
do right to run after them ? Damn the money ! I no 
more mind that, than a piece of clinker ; but 'twas 
the pride of my heart to see my beloved ship, the 
Eagle, well manned, when my old friend is the com- 
mander. 

John, But since you've laid yourself up in ordi- 
nary, retired toli ve in quiet on your own estate, and 
had done with all sea affairs — 

Sir Geo. John, John, a man should forget his 
own convenience for his country's good. — Tho' 
Broadside's letter said these fellows were lurking 
about this part of Hampshire, yet still it's all hid^e 
and seek. 

John. Your ill luck. 

Sir Geo. Mine, you swab? 

John. Ay, you've money and gold r bvit grace and 
good fortune have shook hands with you these nine- 
teen years, for that rogue's trick you played poor 
Miss Amelia, by deceiving her with a sham mar- 
riage, when you passed yourself for Captain Sey- 
mour, and then putting off to sea, leaving her to 
break her poor heart, and ?ince marrying another 
lady. 

Sir Geo. Wasn't I fbrc'd to it by my father ? — 

John. Ay; because she had a great fortin; her 
death too was a judgment upon you. 



\ WII.2> OATS. 7 

Sir Geo. Why, you impudent dogrfish ! upbraid 
rne running into false bay, when you were my pilot? 
Wasn't it you, even broughtme the false clergyman 
that performed the sham marriage with Amelia? 

John.. Yes, you thought so ;. but I .took care to 
bring you a real clergyman. (Aside.) 

Sir Geo. But is this a time or place for your lec- 
tures ? At home, abroad, sea, or land, you v^ill still 
badger me ! Mention my wild oats again, and — . 
you scoundrel, since the night my bed-ciirtains took 
lire, when you were my l>oatswa5u aboard the Ea,gle, 
you've got rne quite xr.to ieadipg strings- — you snatch- 
ed me upon deck, and trsr'-sed me into the sea — to . 
save me ifrom i^eing burnt I ^vas almost drowned. ^ 

John., You would hut form.e— 

Sir Geo, Yes, you dragged me out by the ear like 
a water-dog— and last v/eek, 'cause you found the 
tenth bottle uncorked, you rushed in among my, 
friends, and ran away with me ; and next morning 
Captain O'Shanaghan sends me a challenge for 
quitting the company when he was in the chair! so 
to save rae from a headache, you'd like to have got 
my brains blown out.- 

John. Oh, very well, be burnt in your bed, and 
tumble in the water, by jumping into boats, like a 
tight fellow as you are, and poison yourself with 
sloe-juice; see if John cares a piece of mouldy bis- 
cuit aboiit it. But I wish you hadn't made me your 
valet-de-shamber. INTo sooner was I got on shore^ 
after five years dashing among racks, shoals, and 
breakers, than you set me on a high trotting: Gart" 
horse, which knock'd me up arid down li|c<^ an old 
bum-bo^t in the Bay of Biscay, and here's nothing 
to drink after all! Becaiiseat home yoii^ keep open 
house, you think every, bodv else does,, the same,. 
Holloa! I'll nevtjr i ease- piping, 'till it calls up a 
dr-pp to wet my whistle.. fExit r. h.J 

Sir Geo, Yes, ^% John Dory remarks, I feai; my. 



S WILD OATS. 

trip thro' life, will be attended with heavy squalls' 
and foul weather. When my conduct to poor Ame- 
lia comes athwart rhy mind, it's a hurricane for that 
day, and turn in at night, the ballad of " Margaret 
and William" rings in my ear: {Si7ig-s.) " In glided 
Margaret*s grimly ghost ;" Oh ! zounds, the dis- 
mals are coming upon me, and can't get a cheering 
glass to^— holloa ! 

Enter Ephraim Smooth, l. h. 

JEph. Friend, what would'stthou have. 

Sir Geo. Grog. 

Eph. Neither man or woman of that name abrdetft 
here. 

Sir Geo. Ha, ha, ha ! man and woman !' then if 
you'll bring me Mr. Brandy and Mrs. Water, we'll 
couple them, and the first child probably will be 
Master Grog. 

Eph. Thou dost speak in parables, which I under- 
stand not. 

Sir Geo. Sheer off with your sanctified poop, and 
send the gentleman of the house. 

Eph. The owner of thi& mansion is a maiden, and. 
she approacheth. 

Enter Ladt Amaranth, r. h. 

Ladi/ Am. Friend Ephraim Smooth, did'st thou^*- 
(Turns, sees Sir George.) do I behold? It is I how 
dost thou uncle ? 

Sir Geo. Is it posBiftle you can be my niece. Lady 
Maria Amaranth Thunder ? 

Lady Am. I am the daughter of thy deceased 
brother Loftus, called Earl Thunder, but no Lady j, 
my name is Mary. 

Sir Geo. But, zounds ! how is all this? Eh I un- 
expectedly find you in a strange house, of which old 
Sly here tells me you're mistress, turned quaker and 
disclaim your title ! 



WIZiD OATS. a 

Lady Am. Thou know'st the relation to whose 
©are my father left me ? 

Sir Geo. Well! I know our cousin^ old Dovehousc 
was a quaker ! hut I didn't suspect he had made 
you one. 

Lady Am. Being how gathered to his fathers, he 
did bequeath unto me his worldly goods ; amongst, 
them, this mansion and the lands around it. 

Eph. So thou becomest and continue one of the 
faithful. I am executor of his will, and by it, I can-, 
not give thee, Mary, possesion of these goods but 
on those conditions. 

Sir Geo. Tell me of your thee's and thou's, qua- 
kers wills and mansions ! I say, girl, tho' on the 
<leath of your father^ ray eldest brother, Loftus^. 
Earl Thunder, from your being a female, his 
title devolved to his next brother, Robert ; the' a-s a 
woman, you can't be an earl, nor as a woman you 
can't make laws for your sex and our sex, yet, as the. 
daughter of a peer you are, and by heaven shall be 
called Lady Maria Amaranth Thunder* 

Eph. Thou makest too much noise, friend. 

Sir Geo. Gall me friend, and I'll bump your block, 
against the capstan. 

Eph. Yea, this is a man of danger, and' I will 
leave Mary to abide it. {Exit- l. h.) 

Lady Am. Kinsman, be patient, thou and thy son, 
my cousin Henry, whom I have not b&h«ld, I- think, 
these twelve years, shall be welcome to my dwelling. 
Where now abideth the youth ? 

Sir Geo. At the Naval Academy, at Portsmouth. 

Lady Am. May I not see the young man ? 

Sir Geo. What, to make a quaker of him ?— No, 
no. But, hold, as she's now a wealthy heiress, hej- 
marrying my son Harry, will keep up and preserve 
her title in our own family too, (aside.) — Would'st 
thou really be glad to see him ? thou shalt, Mary. 
Ha, ha, ha ! John Dory ! (calling.) Here comes my 
valet-de-chambre. 



['"If I riTitu-i- 



10 VirXLD OATS. 

Enter John Dory, r. Hr 

John. Why, sir — such a breeze sprung up ! 

Sir Geo. Avast, old man of war; you must in- 
stantly convoy my son from Portsmouth. 

John. Then I must first convoy him to Portsmouth, 
for he happens to be out of dock already. 

Sir Geo. What wind now ? 

John. You know, on our quitting harbour — 

Sir. Geo. Damn your sea-jaw, you marvellous dol- 
phin, give the contents of your log-book in plain 
English. 

John. The young 'squire has cut and run. 

Sir Geo. What! 

Johyi. Got leave to come to you ; and master did 
net find out before yesterday, that, instead of making 
for home, he had sbeer»a off towards London; direct- 
ly sent notice to you ; and bam has traced us all the 
way here, to bring you the news. 

Sir Geo. What, a boy of mine quit his guns ? I'll 
grapple him. — Come, John. 

Lady Am. Order the carriage for mine uncle. 

Sir Geo. No, thank ye, my lady. Let your equi- 
page keep up your own dignity. I've horses here ;: 
but I won't knock 'em up ; next village is the chan- 
nel for the stage. — My lady, I'll bring the dog to 
you by the bowsprit. — Weigh anchor ! crowd sail ! 
and after him ! CExeunt l. h.J 

Enter Ephraim (Peeping in t. h.J 

Eph. The man of noise doth not tarry, then my 
spirit is glad. 

Lady J.m. Let Sarah prepare chambers for my 
kinsman, and hire the maiden for me that thou 
did'st mention. 

Eph. I will ; for this damsel is passing fair, and 
hath found grace in mine eyes. (Aside.) Mary, as 



IXrZLD OATS. 11 

thou art yet a stranger in this land, and just taken 
possession of this estate, the laws of society com- 
mand thee to be on terms of amity with thy weal- 
thy neighbours. 

Lady Am. Yea ; but while I entertain the rich, the 
hearts of the poor shall also rejoice ; I myself will 
now go forth into the adjacent hamlet, and invite 
all that cometh to hearty cheer. 

Eph. Yea, I will distribute among the poor, good 
books. 

Lady Am. And meat and drink too, friend Eph- 
raim. In the fulness of plenty, they shall join in 
thanksgiving for those gifts of which I am so un- 
worthy. (JExewif, R. H.j 



SCENE 11.—^ Hoad. 

Enter Harry Thunder, l. h. 

Har. Well, if my father but forgives me. — This 
three months' excursion with the players, has shown 
me some life, and a devilish deal of fun. For one 
circumstance, I shall ever remember it with delight. 
It's bringing me acquainted with Jack Rover. 
How long he stays. Jack ! In this forlorn stroller 
I have discovered qualities that honour human na- 
ture, and accomplishments that might grace a prince. 
I dont know a pleasanter fellow, except when he 
gets to his abominable habit of quotation. I hope 
he won't find the purse I've hid in his coat pocket, 
before we part. I dread the moment, but it's come. 
JRov. {Without L. H.j " The brisk li-li-lightning I." 
Har. Ay, here's the rattle. Hurried on by the 
impetuous flow of his own volatile spirits, his life 
is a rapid stream of extravagant whim, and while 
the serious voice of humanity prompts his heart 
to the best of actions, his features shine in laugh 
and levity. 



*42 W1I.1& OATS. 

Enter Rover, l. h, 

jHar. Studying Bayes, eh, Jack? 
Rov. " I am the bold Thunder." 
Har. {Aside.) I am, if he knew but all. — Keep onfe 
standing in the road— 

Rov. Beg your pardon, my dear Dick ; but all the 
favdt of — Pijague on't, that a man can't sleep and 
treakfast at an inn, then return up to his bedcham- 
ber for his gloves that he'd forgot, but there he must 
find chambermaids thumping feathers and knocking 
.pillows about, and keep one when one has affairs 
and business ! 'Pon my soul, these girls' conduct to 
us is intolerable. The very thought brings the 
"blood into my face, and whenever they attempt to 
serve, provoke me so. — damme but I will, I will— - 
An't I right, Dick? 

Har. No ; " All in the wrong." 
Rov. No matter, Dick ; that's the universal play, 
*' All round the wTrekin •:" but you're so conceited^ 
because by this company y-ou're •going to join at 
Winchester, you are engaged for high tragedy- 

Har. And you for Rangers, Plumes, and Fopping- 
tons. 

Rov. Our frrst play is Lear. I was devilish im- 
perfect in Edgar t'other night at Lymiugton. I must 
look it over. (Takes out a book.) " Away, the foul 
fiend follows me !" Holloa! stop a moment, we shall 
have the whole county after us. (Going.) 

Har. What now ? ^ 

i?ou. That rosy face chambermaid put me in sucli 
•a passion, that, by heaven, I walked out of the house 
and forgot to pay our bill. {Going.) 

Har. Never mind, Rover, it's paid. 
Rov. Paid ! vi^hy, neither you nor Muk had mo- 
ney enough. No, really ! 

'Har. Ha, ha, ha ! I tell you 'tiso 
Rov. You paid ? Oh, very well. Every honest lel- 
low should be a stock purse. Come, then, let's 



I 



WZLD OATd. 13 

push on now. Ten miles to Winchester, we shall 
be there by eleven. 

Har. Our trunks are booked at the inn for the 
Winchester coach. 

Rov. "Ay, to foreign climes my old trunk I bear." 
But I prefer walking to the car of Thespis. 

Har. Which is the way ? 

i?oz>. Here. (Pointing of ^^.n.) 

Har. Then I go there. (Pointing opposite.) 

Rov. Eh ! 

Har. My dear boy, on this spot, and at this mo- 
ment we must part. 

Rov. Part! 

Har. Rover^ you wish me well. 

Rov. Well, and suppose so. Part, eh ! What mys- 
tery and grand I What are you at ? Do you forget, 
you, Muz^ and I, are engaged to Truncheon, the 
manager, and that the bills are already up with our 
names to-night to play at Winchester ? 

Har. Jack, you and I have often met on a stage 
in assumed characters ; If it's your wish we should 
•ever meet again in our real ones, of sincere friends, 
without asking whither I go, or my motives for 
leaving you, when I walk up this road, do you turn 
down that. 

Rov. Joke ! 

Har. I'm serious. Good bye ! 

Rov. If you repent your engagement with Trun- 
cheon, I'll break off too, and go with you wherever — 
(Takes him under the arm. J 

Har. Attempt to follow me, and even our acquain- 
tance ends. 

Rov.Y.h\ 

Har. Don't think of my reasons, only that it 
must be. 

^ Rov. Have I done any thing to offend Dick Bus- 
kin? Laave me] ( Tur?is, puts handkerchief to his eyes.) 
Har. I am as much concerned as you to — Good bve! 
B ^ 



14 WILD OATS. 

Rov» I can't even bid him — I won't neither — If 
any cause could have given — Farewell. 

Har. Bless my poor fellow ! Adieu. 
(Silently zveeps, -^Exeunt ; Rover, r. h. Har. l, h.J 



END OF ACT I. 



WILD OATS. 15 



ACT II. 

SCENE I.^A Village, Gammon^ s Farm House, 
L. H. u. E. and Bank's Cottage, r. h. u. e. 

Enter Farmer Gammon, ana? Ephraim, from House^ 

L.H. U. E. 

F. Gam. Well, master Ephralm, I may depend 
on thee, as you quakers never break your words. 

Eph. I have spoken to Mary, and she, at my re- 
quest, consenteth to take thy daughter Jane, as her 
hand-maid. 

F. Gam. Very good of you. 

Eph. Goodness I do like, and also — comely Jane. 
(Aside) — The maiden, I will prefer, for the sake of 
—myself. (Aside.) 

F. Gam. I intended to make a present to the per- 
son that does me such a piece of service j but I 
sha'n't affront you with it. 

Eph. I am meek and humble, and must take af- 
fronts. 

F. Gam. Then here's a guinea, master Ephraim. 

Eph. I expected not this j but there's no harm in 
a guinea. (Exit r. h.J 

F. Gam. So, I shall get my children off my hands. 
My son, Sim, is robbing me day and night, — giving 
away my corn and what not among the poor. — My 
daughter Jane — When girls have nought to do, this 
love-mischief creeps into their minds, and then, 
hey ! they're for kicking up their heels. — Sim ! 
Sim! — (Calling.) 

Enter Sim, from the House, l. h. u. e. 

/Szm. Yes, feyther. 

F. Gam. Call your sister. 

Sim. Jane, feyther wants you. 



16 WZLB OATS. 

Enter Jane, from the House, l. h. u. e. rvith Linen 
she had been xvorking. 

Jane. Did you call me ? 

F. Gam. I often told you both, but it's now set- 
tled ; you must go out into the world and work for 
your bread. 

Sim. Well, feyther, whatever you think right 
must be so, and I'm content. 

Jane. And I'm sure, feyther,, I'm willing to do as 
you'd have me. 

F. Gayn. There's ingratitude for you f When my 
wife died, I brought you both up from the shell, and 
now you want to fly oif and forsake me. 

Sim. Why, no ; I'm willing to live with you all 
ijiy days. 

Jane. And I'm sure feyther, if it's your desire, 
I'll never part from you. 

F. Gam. What, you want to hang upon me like 
a couple of leeches, ay, to strip my branches, and 
leave me a withered hawthorn ;, See who's yon. 
(Exit Sim., R. H.J Jane,, Ephraim Smooth has hired 
you for lady Amaranth. 

Jane. O lack! Then I shall live in the great 
house. 

F. Gam. Ay, and mayhap come in for her cast 
clothes. 

Jane. But she's a quaker : and I'm sure, every 
Sunday for church, I dress much finer than her la- 
dyship. 

F. Gam. She has sent us all presents of good 
books. (Gives her one.) To read a chapter in, 
that, when one's in a passion, gives a mon pa- 
tience. 

Jane. Thank her good ladyship. 

F. Gam. My being incumbered with you both i& 
the cause why old Banks- won't give me his sister. 

Jane. That's a pity. If we must have a step- 



WZZ.D OATS. 17 

mother, Madam Amelia would make us a very good 
one. But I wonder how she can refuse you, fey- 
ther, for I'm sure she must think you a very portly 
man in your scarlet vest and new scratch. You can't 
think how parsonable you'd look, if you'd only- 
shave twice a week, and put sixpence in the poor- 
box. (Retires reading.) 
F. Gam. However, if Banks still refuses, I have 
him in my power. I'll turn them both out of their 
cottage yonder, and the bailiff shall provide them 
with a lodging. 

Enter Bauks^ from Cottage, r. h. u. e. 

Well, neighbour Banks once for all, am I to mar- 
ry your sister ? 

Banks. That she best knows. 

F. Gam. Ay, but she says she won't. 

Banks. Then I dare say she won't ; for tho' a 
woman I never knew her to speak what she didn't 
think. 

F. Gam. Then she won't have me ? A fine thing 
this, that you and she, who are little better than 
paupers, dare be so damn'd saucy ! 

Banks. Why, farmer, I confess we're poor; but 
while that's the worst our enemies can say of us, 
we're content. 

F. Gam. Od, dom it ! I wish I had now a good, 
fair occasion to quarrel with him j I'd make him 
content with a devil to him ; I'd knock'en down, 
send him to jail, and — But I'll be up with him ! 

(Aside.) 
Enter Sim, r. k. 

Sim. Oh feyther, here*s one Mr. Lamp, a ring- 
leader of showfolks come from Andover to act in 
our village. He wants a barn to play in> if you'll 
hire him yourn, 

b2 



.^n 



18 WIXD OATS. 

F. Gam, Surely, boy I'll never refuse money. — 

But, lest he should engage the great room in the'inn, 

run thou and tell him — fSim attempts to go.) — Stop, 

I'll go myself — A short cut through that garden — 

(Approaches Bank'^s Cottage.} 

Banks. Why, you, or any neighbour is welcome 
to walk in it, or to partake of what it produces ; but 
making^itacomman thoroughfare is — 

F. Gam. Here, Sim, kick open that garden gate. 

Banks. What? 

F. Gam. Does the lad hear ? 

Sim. Why yes, yes. 

F. Gam. Does the fool understand ? 

Sim. Dang it, I'm as yet but young ; but if under- 
standing teaches me how to wrong my neighbour, I 
hope I may never live to years of discretion. 

F. Gam. What, you cur, do you disobey your 
feyther? Burst open the garden gate as I command 
you. 

Sim. Feyther, he that made both you and the gar- 
den, commands me not to injure the unfortunate. 

F. Gam. Here's an ungracious rogue ! Then I 
must do it myself. (Advances.} 

Banks. (Stands before it.} Hold, neighbour. Small 
as this spot is, it's, now my only possession : and the 
man shall first take my life who sets a foot in it 
against my will. 

F. Gam. I'm in such a passion — 

Jane. (Comes forward.} Feyther, if you're in a 
passion, read the good book you gave me. 

F. Gam. Plague of the wench 1 But, you hussey,^ 
I'll. — and you, you unlucky bird ! 

(Exeunt Sim and Jane into the Housey l. h. u. e.J 

fA shotuer of Rain, Enter Rover, hastily, r. h. } 

Rqv, Zounds I here's a pelting shower, and no 



WZX.2> OATS. 1^ 

shelter! " Poor Tom's a-cold," I'm wet thro' — Oh^ 
here's a fair promising house. 

CGoing into GamvioJi's House. J 

F. Gam. fStops him.) Hold my lad. Can't let 
folks in till I know who they are. There's a public- 
house not above a mile on. . 

Banks. Step in here, young man ; my fire is small; 
but it shall cheer you with a hearty welcome. 

Rov. (To Banks.) The poor cottager ! (To Gain.) 
And the substantial farmer! (Kneels.) " Hear, Na- 
ture, dear goddess, hear ! If ever you designed to 
make his corn-fields fruitful, change thy purpose ; 
that, from the blighted ear no grain may fall to fat 
his stuhble goose — and, when to town he drives his 
hogs, so like himself, oh, let him feel the soaking 
rain, then may he curse his crime too late, and know 
how sharper than a serpent's tooth 'tis" — Damme,, 
but I'm spouting in the rain all this time. 

(Jumps up and runs into BanWs Cottage.) 

F. Gam. Ay, neighbour, you'll soon scratch a 
beggar's head, if you harbour every mad vagrant. 
This may be one of the footpads, that, it seems, 
have got about the country; but I'll have an execu- 
tion, and seize on thy goods, this day, my charitable 
neighbour! Eh, the sun strikes out, quite cleared up« 

Enter JA^E^from the House., L. h. u. e. 

Jane. La, feyther, if there isn't coming down the 
village — 

F. Gam. Ah, thou hussey ! 

Jane. Bless me, feyther ! No time for anger now* 
Here's lady Amaranth's charott., drawn by her new 
grand long-tail'd horses. — La ! it stops! 

F. Gam. Her ladyship is coming out, and walks 
this way. — She may wish to rest herself in my 
house. Jane, we must always make rich folks wel- 
come. 



20 WILD OATS. 

Jane. Dear me, I'll run in and set things to rights. 
But, feyther, your cravat and wig are all got so rum- 
plified with your cross-grain'd tantarums. — I'll tie 
your neck-cloth in a big bow, and for your wig, if 
there is any flour in the drudging-box — (Adjusts 
them and rims info the house^ L. H, u. e.^ 

F. Gam. Oh! the bailiff too, that I engaged. 

Enter Twitch, l. h. 

Twitch. Well, master Gammon, as you desired, 
I'm come to serve this here warrant of yours, and 
arrest master Banks : where is he ? 

F. Gam. Yes, now I be's determined on't — he's — 
Zounds ! stand aside, I'll speak to you anon. 

Enter Lady Amaranth, r. h. 

Lady Am. Friend, (^ To F. Gam.) Jane, whom. I 
have taken to be my handmaid, is thy daughter ? 

F. Gam. Ay, so her mother said, an't please your 
ladyship. 

Lady Am. Ephraim Smooth acquainteth me thou 
art a wealthy yeoman. 

F. Gam. Why, my lady, I pay my rent. 

Lady Am. Being yet a stranger on my estate 
around here, I have passed through thy hamlet to 
behold, with mine ov^n eye, the distresses of my 
poor tenants. I wish to relieve their wants. 

F. Gam. Right, your ladyship : for charity hides 
a deal of sins. How good of you to think of the 
poor 1 that's so like me. I'm always contriving how 
to relieve my neighbours. — You must lay Banks in 
jail to-night. (Apart to Twitch.') 

Enter ]AVii^,from the houscy l. h. u. e. 

Jane. An't please you, will your ladyship entep 
©ur humble dwelling and rest your ladyship in fey- 



WZLB OATS. 21 

tKer s great cane-bottom'd elbow chair, with a high 
back. _ (Curtsies.) 

F. Gain. Do, my lady. To receive so great a body 
from her own chariot is an honour, I dreamt not of; 
though, for the hungry and weary-foot traveller, my 
doors are always open, and my morsel ready. — 
Knock ; when he comes out, touch him. 

C Aside to Txvitch.J 

Lady Am. Thou art benevolent, and I will enter 
thy dwelling with satisfaction* 

Jane. O precious ! This way, my lady. 
\Exeunt all but Tzvitchinto Gammon'' s house., L.H.U.E.. 

Twitch, Eh ! where's the warrant? — 

(Feels his pocket., and knocks at Banks's door. J 

Enter Banks, yrow Cottage., r. h» ' 

Banks. Master Twitch ! What*s your business 
with me ? 

Twitch, (l. h.) Only a little affair here against 
you. 

Banks. Me ! 

Twitch. Yes ,- Farmer Gammon has bought a 
thirty pound note of hand of yours. 

Banks. Indeed! Well, I didn't think his malice 
could have stretched so far — I thought the love he 
professed for ray sister, might — why, it is true, mas- 
ter Twitch, to lend our indigent cottagers small sums 
when they've been unable to pay their rents, I got 
lawyer Quirk to procure me this money, and hoped 
their industry would have put it in my power to 
take up my note before now. However, I'll go round 
and try what they can do, then call on you and set- 
tle it. 

Tzvitch. You must go with me. 

Rov. {within.) Old gentleman, come quick, or 1*11 
draw another bottle of your currant wine. 

Twitch.. You'd best not make a noise,, but come. — 

{To Banks J 



22 WILD OATS. 

Enter Rovi.r, from Cottage, u. e. r. h. 

J^ov. Oh, you're here ? Rain over — quite fine— ' 
I'll take a sniff of the open air too — Eh, what's the 
matter? 

Twitch. What's that to you ? 

J^ov. What's that to me? Why, you're a \er/ 
unmannerly — 

Twitch. Oh, here's a rescue ! 

Banks. Nay, my dear sir, I'd wish you not to 
bring yourself into any trouble about me. 

Txvitch. Now, since you don't know what's civil, 
if the debt's not paid directly, to jail you go. 

Eov. My kind, hospitable, good old man to jail I 
■ — What's the amount, you scoundrel I 

Tzvitch. Better words, or I'll — 

Rov. Stop ', utter you a w^ord, good or bad, except 
to tell me what's your demand upon this gentleman, 
and I'll give you the greatest beating you ever got 
since the hour you commenced rascal. {In a low tone.) 

Twitch. Why, master, I don't want to quarrel with 
you, because — 

i?otJ. You'll get nothing by it. Do you know, you 
villain, that I am this moment the greatest man 
living ? 

Tzvitch. Who, pray ? 

i?oy. " I am the bold Thunder !" Sirrah, know 
that I carry my purse of gold in my coat pocket, 
Tho' damme if I know how a purse came there. — 
C Aside and takes it out. J There's twenty pictures of 
his Majesty ; therefore, in the king's name, I free 
his liege subject, f Takes Banks away. J And now 
who am I ? Ah, ha ! 

Twitch. Nine pieces short, my master ; but if 
you're a housekeeper, I'll take this and your bail. 

Rov. Then for bail you must have a housekeeper? 
What's to be done ? 



^%- 



{ 



WILD OATS. 23 

Enter Gaumos, frojn house^ l. h. u. e. 

Ah, here's old Hospitality ! I know you've a house, 
tho' your fire-side was too warm for me. Lookye, 
here's some rapacious, griping rascal, has had this 
worthy gentleman arrested. Now a certain, good 
for nothing, rattling fellow, has paid twenty guineas, 
you pass your word for the other nine, we'll step 
back into the old gentleman's friendly house, and 
over his currant wine, our first toast shall be, 
" liberty to the honest debtor, and confusion to the 
hard hearted creditor." 

jp. Gam. I sha'n't. 

Rov. Sha'n't ! What's your name ? 

F. Gam, Gammon ! 

Rov. Gammon ! Demme, you're the Hampshire 
hog. CExit F. Gam. l. h.J 

'Sdeath ! How shall I do to extricate — ? I wish I 
had another purse in my waistcoat pocket. 

Mnter Lady Amaranth,/)-©^ thehouse^ l. h. u. e. 

Lady Am. What tumult is this ? 
Rov. A lady ! Ma'am, your most obedient hum- 
ble servant. {Bows.) A quaker too ! They're gen- 
1 erally kind and humane, and that face is the prologue 
j to a play of a thousand good acts — may be, she'd 
help us here. — (Aside.) Ma'am, you must know that 
—that I — no — this gentleman — I mean this gentle- 
man and I — He got a little behind hand, as every 
honest, well principled man often may, from — from 
bad harvests and rains — lodging corn — and his cat- 
tle — from murrain, and — rot the murrain ! you 
know this is the way all this affair happened, 
(To Banks.) and then up steps this gentleman, 
\To Twitch.) with a — a tip in his way — Madam, 
you understand ? And then up steps I — with my a 



24 VTUmJ} oats. 

■ — In short, madam, I am the worst story teller in 
the world, where myself is the hero of the tale. 

Twitch. Mr. Banks has been arrested for thirty 
pounds, and this gentleman has paid twenty guineas 
of the debt. 

Banks. My litigious neighbour to expose me thus! 

Lady Am. The j'^oung man and maiden within, 
have spoken well of thy sister, and pictured thee as 
a man of irreproachable morals, though unfortunate. 

Rov. Madam, he's the honestest fellow — I've 
known him above forty years, he has the best hand 
at stirring a fire — If you was only to taste his cur- 
rant wine. 

Banks. Madam, I never aspired to an enviable 
rank in life ; but hitherto pride and prudence kept 
me above the reach of pity ! but obligations from a 
stranger — 

Lady Am. He ! really a stranger, and attempt to 
free thee? But friend,(^To Rov.) thou hast assumed 
a right which here belongeth to me. As I enjoy 
the blessings which these lands produce, I own also 
the heart delighting privilege of dispensing those 
blessings to the wretched. Thou mad'st thyself my 
worldlv banker, and no cash of mine in thy hands ; 
[Takes a note from a pocket-book.) but thus I balance 
our account. (Offers it.} 

Rov " Madam, my master pays me, nor can I 
take money from another hand without injuring his 
honour, and disobeying his commands." 

"i?Mn, run., Orlando^ carve on every tree., 

" The fair y the chaste^ the unexpressive she.^^ 

(Exit^. n.J 

Banks. But, sir, I insist you'll return him his 
money. (To Twitch ) Stop! (Going-.) 

Twitch. Ay, Stop ! (Holds the skirt of his coat.) 

Lady Ayn. Where dweljeth he ? 

Banks. I fancy, where he can, madam. I under- 



WZLB OATS. 2a 

stand from his discourse, that he was on his way to 
join a company of actors in the next town. 

Lady Am. A profane stage-player Avith such a 
gentle, generous heart! Yet, so whimsically wild, 
like the unconscious rose, modestly shrinking from 
the recollection of its own grace and sweetness. 

Enter jANE,yrom Gammon's house., l. h. u. e. 

Jane. Now, my lady, I'm lit to attend your lady- 
ship. I look so genteelish, mayhap her ladyship 
may take me home with her. (Aside.) 

Lady Am. This maiden may find out for me 
whither he goeth. [Aside.) Call on my steward, and 
thy legal demands shall be satisfied. 

{To Twitch., who exits., l. h.^ 

Jane. Here, coachman, drive up my lady's charott 
nearer to our door. {Calls off.) Charott! If she'd 
take me with her, la ! how all the folks will stare. 
(Aside.) Madam, tho' the roads are so very dusty, 
I'll walk all the way on foot to your ladyship's 
house — ay, tho' I should spoil my bran new petti- 
coat. 

Lady Am. Rather than sully thy garment, thou 
shalt be seated by me. 

Jane. Oh, your ladyship ! — Ecod, if I didn't 
think so. (Aside.) 

Lady Am. Friend, f To Banks.) be cheerful j thine 
and thy sisters' sorrows shall be but an April 
shower. (Exeunt., Lady Am. Sim and Jane., r. h. 
Banks into house., r. h.J 



SCENE II.— Before an Inn. 
Enter Rover, l. h. and Waiter, from d. f. 

, ^ou. Holloa ! friend, when does the coach set out 
for London ? 

Waiter. In about an hour, sir. 

c 



26 WZZ.D OATS 

Eov. Has the Winchester coach passed ? 
Waiter. No, sir. (^e^^h into d. f. J 

Rov. That's lucky ! Then my trunk is here still. 
Go I will not. Since I've lost the fellowship of my 
friend Dick, I'll travel no more ; I'll try a London 
audience, who knows but I may get an engagement ? 
This celestial lady quaker ! She must be rich, and 
ridiculous for such a poor dog as I am, even to think 
of her. How Dick would laugh at me if he knew— I 
dare say by this she has released my kind host from 
the gripe— I should like to be certain, tho'— 

E?iter Waiter, frovi d. f. 

Waiter. You'll dine here, sir ? I'm honest Bob 
Johnstone ; kept the sun these twenty years. Excel- 
lent dinner on table at two. 

Rov.'-'' Yet my love indeed is appetite, I'm as hun- 
gry as the sea, and can digest as much." 

Waiter. Then you won't do for my shilling ordi- 
nary, sir ; there's a very good ordinary at the Sara- 
cen's head, at the end of the town. Shouldn't have 
thought indeed, hungry foot travellers to eat like — 
coming,' sir. CExit into d. t.J 

Rov. I'll not join this company at Winchester. 
No, I'll not stay in the country, hopeless even to 
expect a look, (except of scorn) from this lady. I 
will take a touch at a London theatre. The public 
there, are candid and generous, and before my merit 
can have time to create enemies, I'll save money, 
and,—" a fig for the sultan and sophy." 

E7iter Jane, at the back; Sim ■watching her., r. h. 

Jane. Ay, that's he ! 

Rov. But if I fall, by heaven, I'll overwhelm the 
manager, his empire, and — "himself in one prodi- 
gious ruin." 

Jane. Ruin ! Oh lord ! {Runs hack') 



WXLB OATS. 2r 

Sim. Hem ! (Jane screams and falls into Rover'' s 
•ttrms.) What can you expect when you follow young 
men ? I've dodged you all the way. 

Jane. Well, wasn't I sent ? 

■Sim. Oh yes, you were sent — very likely. W^ho 
sent you ? 

Jane. It was-— I won't tell it's my lady, 'cause she 
bid me not. (Aside.) 

Sim. I'll keep you from sheame. (Puts her over to 
R. H.j — A fine life I should have in the parish, rare 
fleering, if a sister of moine should stand some 
Sunday at church, in a white sheet, and to all their 
flouts what could I say ? 

Rov. Thus. "I say my sister's wrong'd, my sis- 
ter Bloxvsabella., born as high. and noble as the attor- 
■neij — A'^ her justice, cr by the gods, I'll lay a scene 
of blood, shall make this hatjmoxv horrible to Bee- 
bles."— " Say that, Chamont." 

Sim. I believe it's full moon. You go hoame to 
your place, and moind your business. (To Jane.) 

Jane. My lady will be so pleased I found him ! 
I don't wonder at it, he's such a fine spoken man. 

Sim. Dang it ! Will you stand here grinning at 
the wild bucks, you saucy slut, to keep me and the 
cart waiting for you at the end of the lane, 

Jane. Perhaps the gentleman might wish to send 
her ladyship a compliment. An't please you, sir, if 
it's even a kiss between us two, it shall go safe ; for 
though you should give it me, brother Sim then can 
take it to my lady. 

Rov. " I kiss'd thee e'er I kill'd thee." 

Jane. Kill me ! 

Rov. " No way but this, killing myself to die up- 
on a kiss !" (Kisses her — Sim forces him from her.) 
. Sim. And you walk home, my forward miss ! 

Rov. Ay ; "to a nunnery go, go." 

Sim. Aye, go and be a nunnery. {Exit Jane R. h.) 

Rov. I'm cursedly out of spiritsj but hang sorrow, 



28 WZX.D OA*S. 

I may as well divert myself. — " 'Tis meat and drink 
for me to see a clown." — "Shepherd, was't ever at 
court ?" 

Sim. Not I. 

JRov. " Then thou art damnM." 

.Sim. Eh ! 

Rov. Ay! "Thou art damn'd like an ill roasted 
^ZZ — all on one side." — Little Hospitality. 

Enter Fanner Gammon, r. h. 

F. Gam. Eh, where's the showman that wants to 
hire my barn ? How's this son ? 

Rov. " Your son ? Young Clodpate ; take him to 
your wheat-stack, and there teach him manners." 

F. Gam. Ah ,thouVt the fellow that would boit out 
of the dirty roads into people's houses. Ho, ho, 
ho ! Sim's schooling is mightily thrown away if 
he hasn't more manners than thou. 

Sim. Why, feyther ; it is ! Gadzooks, he be one 
of the play ! Acted Tom Fool, in King Larry, at 
Lymington 'tother night — I thought I know'd the 
face, thof he had a straw cap, and a blanket about'n 
— Ho, ho ! how comical that was when you said — ■ 

Rov. " Pillicock satupon Pillicock hill, pil — li— 
loo, loo, loo! 

Sim. That's it ! He's at it ! (Claps.) Laugh feyther. 

F. Gam. Hold your tongue, boy ! I believe he's 
no better than he should be. The moment I saw 
him, says I to myself, you are a rogue. 

Rov. There you spoke truth for once in your life. 

F. Gain. I'm glad to hear you confess it. But her 
ladyship shall have the vagrants whipped out of the 
country, 

Rov. Vagrant ! " Thou wretch ! despite o'erwhelm 
thee I" " Only squint, and, by heaven, I'll beat thy 
blown body 'till it rebounds like a tennis ball." 

(Sim forces Rover from his Father.) 



WXZ.D OATS. 29 

Sim. Beat my feyther ! No, no. Thou must first 
beat me. (Puts himself in a posture of defence.) 

Rov. (Aside., mitk great feeling) " Tho' love cool, 
friendship fall off, brothers divide, subjects rebel, 
oh ! never let the sacred bond be cracked 'twixt son 
and father !" I never knew a father's protection, 
never had a father to protect. (Puts his hand- 
kerchief to his eyes., and goes up the Stage.) 

Sim. Ecod ! he's not acting now ! 

Enter Landlord, with a book, pen and ink, 
from D. F, 

F. Gam, Landlord, is this Mr. Lamp here ? 

Landl. I've just opened a bottle for him and t'other 
in the parlour. (Exit., into house,) 

Rov. " Go, father, with thy son, give him a livery 
more guarded than his fellows." 

Sim. Livery! Why, I be no sarvant man, tho' 
sister Jane is. Gi's thy hand. CTo Rover. J I don't 
know how 'tis ; but I think I could lose my life for 
him ; but mustn't let feyther be lickt tho' — (Going 
turns., and looks at Rover.) Ecod, I never shall for- 
get Pillicock ! (Exit Gam. into house, Sim l. h.) 

Rov. Thou art an honest reptile. 

Enter WAiTER/rom d. f. with hook and pen. 

Waiter. Two gentlemen in the parlour would 
speak with you. ( To Rover.) 

Rov. "I attend them, were they twenty times our 
mother." 

Waiter. Sir, you go in the stage ; as we book the 
passengers, what name ? 

Rov. " I am the bold Thunder." (^Exit into house.) 

Landl. {Writing.) Mr. Thunder. 
c2 



30 WXI.D OATS. 

Enter John Dory, l. h. 

John, I want two places in the stage-coach, be- 
cause I and another gentleman are going a voyage. 

Landl. Just two vacant : what name ? 

John. Avast ! I go aloft. But let's see who'll l)e 
my master's messmates in the cabin : [Reads.) Cap- 
tain Maccolah, Counsellor Fazacherly, Miss Gos- 
ling, Mr. Thunder. What's this ? speak, man ! is 
there one of that name going ? 

Landl. Book'd him this minute. 

John. If our voyage should now be at an end be- 
fore we begin it ! — What sort of a gentleman is he ? 

Landl. Oh ! a rum sort of a gentleman ; I suspect 
he's one of the players. 

John. True ; Sam said it was some player's people 
coaxed him away from Portsmouth school. It must 
be the 'squire — shew me where he is moored, my 
old purser. 

(Exit^ singings and Landl. following, into D. P.) 



SCENE III.— ^ Room in the Inn. 
Lamp, and Trap, (discovered drinkirig.) 

Trap. This same farmer Gammon seems a surly 
spark. 

Lamp. No matter. His bam will hold a good 
thirty pounds, and if I can but engage this young 
fellow, this Rover, he'll cram it every night he plays. 
He's certainly a devilish good actor. Now Trap, 
you must enquire out a carpenter, and be brisk 
about the building. I think we shall have smart 
business, as we stand so well for pretty women too» 
Oh, here he is ! 

Irap, Snap him at any terms* 



WXI.D OATS. 31 

^w to- Rover, L. H. 

Rov. Gentlemen, your most obedient— The waiter 
told me — {Lamp and Trap advance^ r. H.J 

Lamp. Sir, to our better acquaintance. (Fills.) 

Rov. I don't recollect I have the honour of know-- 
ing— 

Lamp. Mr. Rover, tho' I am a stranger to you, 
your merit is none to me. 

Rov. Sir ! (Bows.) 

JLamp. Yes, sir, my name is Lamp ; I am manager 
of the company of comedians that's come down 
here, and Mr. Trap is my treasurer, engages per- 
formers, sticks bills, finds properties, keeps box- 
book, prompts plays, and takes the towns. 

Trap. The most reputable company, and charm- 
ing money getting circuit. (Apart to Rover.) 

Rov. Hav'nt a doubt, sir. 

Lamp. Only suffer me to put up your name to 
play with us six nights, and twelve guineas are 
yours. 

Rov. Sir, I thank you, and must confess your offer 
is liberal ; but my friends have flattered me into a 
sort of opinion that encourages me to take a touch 
at the capital. 

Lamp. Ah, my dear Mr. Rover, a London Thea- 
tre is dangerous ground. 

Rov. Why, I may fail, and gods may groan, and 
ladies drawl, " La, what an awkward creature !" 
But should I top my part, then shall gods applaud, 
and ladies sigh, " the charming fellow !" and trea- 
surers smile upon me as they count the shining gui- 
neas ! 

Lamp. But, suppose — 

Rov. Ay, suppose the contrary, I have a certain 
friend here, in my coat pocket, (Puts his Hand into 
his Coat Pocket) Eh ! zounds ! where is — oh, the 



32 WILD OATS. 

devil ! I gave it to discharge my kind host — going; 
for London, and not master of five shillings! (Aside.) 
" Sir, to return to the twenty pounds." 

Lamp. Twenty pounds ! Well, let it be so. 

JRov. Sir, I engage with you, call a rehearsal when 
and where you please, I'll attend. 

Lamp. Sir, I'll step for the cast-book, and you 
shall choose your characters. 

Trap. And, sir, I'll write out the play-bills di- 
rectly. CExit Lamp and Trap^ r. h.J 

Rov. Since I must remain here sometime, and I've 
not the most distant hope of ever speaking to this 
goddess again, I wish I had inquired her name, that 
I might know how to keep out of her way. 

E7iter John Dory anr/ Landlord, l. h. 

Landl. There's the gentleman. 

John. Very well. — (Exit Landlord^ l. h.J — ^What 
cheer, ho ! master 'squire ? 

Rov. Cheer, ho ! my hearty ! 

John. The very face of his father ! And an't you 
asham'd of yourself ? 

Rov. Why, yes, I am sometimes. 

John. Do you know, if I had you at the gang- 
ways, I'd give you a neater dozen than ever you got 
from your schoolmaster's cat-o-nine tails ? 

Rov. You wouldn't sure ? 

John. I would sure. 

Rov. Indeed ? — pleasant enough ! who is this ge- 
nius ? 

John. I've despatched a fast sailing shallop to tell 
Lady Amaranth you're here. 

Rov. You hav'nt ? 

John. I have. 

Rov. Now, who the devil is Lady Amaranth ? 

John. I expect her chariot every momt- nt, and 
when it comes, you'll get into it, and I'll get into it, 



UrXIiD OATS. 33 

then they'll be a pair of us, and I'll set you down 
genteelly at her house ; then I'll have obeyed my 
orders, and I hope your father will be satisfied. 

Rov, My father ! who's he pray ? 

John. Pshaw ! leave off your fun, and prepare to 
ask his pardon. 

Rov. Ha, ha, ha ! Why, my worthy friend, you are 
totally wrong in this affair. Upon my word I'm not 
the person you take me for. (Going, l. h.J 

John. You don't go, tho' they've got your name 
down in the stage coach book, Mr. Thunder. 

Rov, Mr. Thunder ! stage coach book ! (Pauses.) 
ha, ha, ha ! This must be some curious blunder. 

John. Oh ! my lad, your father, Sir George, will 
change your note. ^ 

Rov. He must give me one first. Sir George ! then 
my father is a knight it seems; ha, ha, ha ! very good, 
faith ! 'pon my honour, I am not the gentleman that 
you think me. 

John. I ought not to think you any gentleman for 
giving your honour in a falsehood. Oh ! them play- 
actors you went amongst have quite spoiled you. I 
wish only one of 'em wou'd come in my way. I'd 
teach 'em to bring a gentleman's son trampoozing 
about the country. 

Enter Waiter, l. h. 

Wait. Her ladyship's chariot's at the door, and I 
fancy it's you, sir, the coachman wants. 

fExit, L, U.J 

John. Yes, it's me. I attend your honour. 

( To Rov.) 

Rov. Then you insist on it that I am — 

John. I insist on nothing, only you shall come. 

Rov. Indeed ! Shall ! Shall is a word don't sound 
over agreeable to my ears. 

John. Does a pretty girl sound well to your ear I 



34 WZZ.I> OATS. 

Rov. "More music in the clink of her! horse's 
hoofs than twenty hautboys." Why, is this Lady 
Thing-o-me, pretty ? 

John. Beautiful as a mermaid, and stately as a 
ship under sail. 

Rov. A beautiful woman ! — " Oh, such a sight ! 
talk of coronations !" 

John. Coronation ! zounds ! what are you thinking 
of? 

Rov. " I was thinking of a side-saddle." 

John. Side-saddle ! why, damme, we go in a coach. 

Rov. Egad ! I've a mind to humour the frolic — 
Well, well, I'll see your mermaid. But then, on the 
instant of my appearance the mistake must be dis- 
covered. [Aside.) iiarkye, is this father of mine you 
talk of at this lady's ? 

John. No. Your father's in chase of the deserters. 

Rov. Is he expected soon? 

Johii. I find he's afraid to face the old one, so, if 
I tell him, he won't go with me. {Aside.) No, no, we 
sha'n't see him in a hurry. 

Rov. Then I'll venture. Has the lady ever seen 
me ? 

John. Psha ! none of your jokes, man ; you know- 
that her ladyship, no more than myself, has set eyes 
upon you since you was the bigness of a rumbo 
canakin. 

Rov. The choice is made. I have my Ranger's 
dress in my trunk — " Cousin of Buckingham, thou 
sage, grave man !" 

John. What? 

Rov. " Since you will buckle fortune on my back, 
to bear her burden, whether I will or no, I must have 
patience to endure the load I but if black scandal, or 
foul faced" — 

John. Black! my foul face was as fair as yours 
before I went to sea. 



WILD OATS. 53 

JRov. " Your mere enforcement shall acquittance 
me." 

John. Man, don't stand preaching parson Sacks — 
come to the chariot. 

jRov. Ay, to the chariot ! " bear me, Bucephalus, 
among the billows, — hey ! for the Tigris !" 

C Exeunt, l. h.J 



END or ACT II, 



^6 WILD OATS. 

ACT III. 

SCENE 1. — Lady AmarantK's House. 
Enter Lady Amaranth aw^EpHRAiM, r. h. 

Lady Am. Tho' thou hast settled that distressed 
gentleman's debt, let his sister come unto me, and 
remit a quarter's rent unto all my tenants. 

Eph. As thou bidd'st, I have discharged from the 
pound the widow's cattle ; but shall I let the lawsuit 
drop against the farmer's son, who did shoot the 
pheasant ? 

Lady Am. Yea ; but instantly turn from my ser- 
vice the gamekeeper's man that did kill the fawn, 
while it was eating from his hand. We should hate 
guile, tho' we may love venison. 

Eph. I love a young doe. {Aside.) Since the death 
of friend Dovehouse, who, (tho' one of the faithful) 
was an active magistrate, this part of the country 
is infested with covetous men, called robbers, and 
I have, in thy name, said unto the people, whoever 
apprehendeth one of these, I will reward him, yea, 
with thirty pieces of gold. (A loud knocking -without^ 
L. H.j That beating of one brass against another at 
thy door, proclaimeth the approach of vanity, whose 
pride of heart swelleth at an empty sour d. (Exit-R.n.) 

Lady Am. But my heart is possessed with the idea 
of that wand'ring youth, whose benevolence induced 
him to part with, perhaps, his all, to free the un- 
happy debtor. His person is amiable, his address, 
according to worldly modes; formed to please, to 
delight. But he's poor — is that a crime? Perhaps, 
meanly born ; but one good action is an'illustrious 
pedigree. I feel I love him, and in that word are 
birth, fame, and riches. 



IXrZLD OATS. 37 



£7iter Jane, l. h. d. 

Jm2e. Madam, my lady, an't please you— 

Lady Am. Didst thou find the young man, that 
I may return him the money he paid for my tenant? 

Jane. I found him, ma'am, and — I found him^ 
and he talk'd of— what he said. 

Lady Am. What did he sayf 

Jane. He saw me ma'am — and call'd me Blowsa- 
bella, and said he would — I'll be hang'd, ma'am, if 
he did'n't say he would — Now, think of that ;- — but 
if he had'n't gone to London in the stage coach — 

Lady Am. Is he gone ? CWith emotion. J 

Enter John Dory, l. h. d. 

John. Oh, my lady, mayhap John Dory is not the 
man to be sent after young gentleman that scamper 
from school, and run about the country play acting ! 
— Pray walk up stairs, Master Thunder. (Calls off.) 

Lady Am. Flast thou brought my kinsman hither? 

John. Well, I hav'n't then. 

Jane. If you hav'n't, why -do you make a talk 
about it ? (Crosses to him.) 

John. Well, don't give me your palaver, young 
Miss Slip Slop. — Will you only walk up, if you 
please. Master Harry ? 

Jane. Will you walk up, if you please, Master 
Harry ? 

l^dy Am. Friendship requireth, yet I am not dis- 
posed to commune with company. (Aside.) 

Jane. Oh, bless me, ma'am ! if it isn't—- 

E7iter Rover, dressed.^ l. h. 

Rov. " 'Tis I, Hamlet the Dane !"— " Thus far, 
into the bowels of the land, have we marched on." 
• — " John, that bloody and devouring boar !'' 

Jofm. He called me bull in the coach. 

D 



38 WILD OA*P&. 

Jane. 1 don't know what brought such a bull in 
the coach ! 

liov. This the lady Amaranth ! By heavens, the 
very angel quaker ! 

Lady Am. ( Turns. J The dear, generous youth, my 
cousin Harry ! 

John. There he's for you, my lady, and make the 
most of him. 

Jane. Oh, how happy my lady is ! he looks so 
oharming now he's fine. 

John. (^Apart to Rover.) Harkye ! she's as rich 
as a Spanish Indiaman, and I tell you, your father 
wishes you'd grap-ple her by the heart — court her, 
you mad devil. There's an engagement to be be- 
tween these two vessels ; but little Cupid's the only 
man that's to take minutes, so come. ( To Jane.) 

Jane. Ma'am, an't I to wait on you ? 

John. No, my lass, you're to wait on me. 

Jane. Wait on this great sea-bull ! lack-a-daisy ! 
am I — am I — 

John. By this. Sir George is come to the inn, 
without letting the younker know. I'll go bring him 
here, and smuggle both father and son into a joyful 
meeting. (Aside.) Come now, usher me down like 
a lady. ( To Jane.) 

Jane. This way, Mr. Sailor Gentleman. 

C Exeunt., John and Jane l. h.JI 

Rov. By heavens, a most delectable woman ! 

(Aside.) 

Lady Am. Cousin, when I saw thee in the village, 
free the sheep from the wolf, why didst not tell me 
then thou wert son to my uncle. Sir George? 

Rov. Because, my lady, then I — didn't know it 
myself. (Aside.) 

Lady Aju. Why would'st thou vex thy father, and 
quit thy school. 

Rov. " A truant disposition, good, my lady, 
brought me from Witemberg." 



WILD OATS. 39 

Lady Am. Thy father designs thee for his danger- 
ous profession ; but is thy inclination tuned to the 
voice of trumpets, and smites of mighty slaughter? 

Rov. " Why, Ma'am, as for old Boreas, my dad, 
when the blast of war blows in his ears, he's a tyger 
in his fierce resentment." — But for me,." I think it 
a pity, so it is, that villainous saltpetre should be 
digged out of the bowels of the earth, which many 
a good tall fellow has destroyed, with wounds and 
guns, and drums, heav'n save the mark !" 

Lady Am. Our families have long been separated. 

Rov. They have. Since Adam, I believe — (Aside.) 
" Then, lady, let that sweet bud of love now ripen 
to a beauteous flower !" 

Lady Am. Love ! 

Rov. " Excellent wench ! perdition catch my soul, 
but I do love thee, and when I love thee not, Chaos 
is come again." 

Lady Am. Thou art of an happy disposition. 

Rov. " If I were now to die, 'twere now to be 
most happy." " Let our senses dance in concert 
to the joyful minutes, and this, and this, the only dis- 
cord make." (Embracing.) 

LnterjANEyWith cake and wine, l. h. 

Jane. Ma'am, an't please you, Mr. Zachariah 
bid me — 

Rov. " Why, you fancy yourself Cardinal Wolsey 
in this family." 

Jane. No, sir, I'm not Cardinal Wolsey, I'm only 
my lady's maid here — Jenny Gammon at your ser- 
vice. 

Rov. " A bowl of cream for your Catholic 
jMajesty." 

Ja7ie. Cream ! No, sir, it's wine and water. 

Rov. " You get no water, take the wine, great 
Potentate." f Gives Lady Am. a glass, then drinks.) 

Jane. Madam, my father begs leave — 



40 WILD OAf^. 

Rov. " Go, go, thou shallow Pomona."' 

{Puts her out, t^ h. d.) 

Enter Farmer Gammon and Lamp, l. h. d. 

Eh, zounds ! my manager ! 

F. Gam. I hope her ladyship hasn't found out 
'twas I had Banks arrested. (Aside.) Would your 
ladyship give leave for this here honest man and his 
comrades to act a few plays in the town, 'cause IVe- 
let'n my barn. 'Twill be some little help to me-, 
my lady. 

jRov. My lady, I understand these affaira. Leave 
me to settle 'em. 

Lady Am. True ; these are d'eltisions, as a woman 
I understand not. But by my cousin's advice I will 
abide ; ask his permission. ( To Gam.J^ 

F. Gam. So; I must pay my respects to the young 
squire. (Aside.) An't please your honour, if a poor 
man like me (Bojus.) durst offer my humble duty — 

Rov. Can*st thou bow to a vagrant. Eh, Little 
Hospitality ? f Fanner Gam?non looks in his face and 
sneah ojfi, l. h. t>.) 

Lamp. Please your honour, if I may presume to 
hope you'll be graciously pleased, to take our little 
squad under your honour's protection. 

Rov. Ha ! 

Ladi^ Am. What say'st thou Henry ? 

Rov. Ay, where's Henry ? Gadso ! True, that's 
me. Strange I should already forget my name, and 
not half an hour since I was christened I (Aside.) 
Harkye ! do you play yourself ? Eh [ Ha I Hem ! 
( Vapouring-.) fellow ? 

Lamp. Yes, sir ; and sir, I have just now engaged 
a new actor, Mr. Rover. Such an actor ! but I dare 
say, sir, you've heard of Mr. Rover. 

Rov. Eh ! What !' you've engaged that— what's 
his name. Rover ? If such is your best actor, you 
sha'n't have my permission. My dear madam j the 



WXIiD OATS. 41 

worst fellow in the world. Get along out of the 
town, or I'll have all of you, man, woman, child, 
stick, rag, and fiddlestick, clapt into the whirligig. 

Lady Am. Good man, abide not here. 

Rov. Eh ! What! my friend ? Now, indeed if this 
new actor you brag of, this crack of your company, 
was any thing like a gentleman' — (Turns to him.) 

Lamp. (Stares.) It isn't I 

Rov. It is. My good friend, if I was really the 
unfortunate poor strolling dog you thought me, I 
should tread your four boards, and crow the cock of 
your barn-door fowl ; but as fate has ordained that 
I'm a gentleman, and son to Sir, Sir — what the 
devil's my father's name I (Aside.) you must be 
content to murder Shakspeare without making me 
an accomplice. 

Lamp. But, my most gentle sir, I, and my treasu- 
rer, Trap have trumpeted your fame ten miles round 
the country : — the bills are posted, the stage built, 
the candles book'd, fiddles engaged, all on the tip- 
top of expectation. We should have to-morrow 
night an overflow, ay, thirty pounds. Dear, worthy 
sir, you wou'dn't go to ruin a whole community and 
their families, that now depend only on the exertion 
of your brilliant talents. 

Lad-y Am. Since thou hast promised,, much as I 
prize my adherence to those customs in which I 
was brought up, thou shalt not sully thy honour by 
a breach of thy word j for truth is more shining than 
beaten gold. Play> if it can bring good to these 
people. 

Rov. Shall 1 1 

Lady Ajn. This falleth out well ; for I have bid- 
den all the gentry round unto my house-warming, 
and these pleasantries may aiford them a cheerful 
and innocent entertainment, 

Rov. True, my lady ; your guests an't quakers, 
tho' you are j and when we ask people to our house, 

d2 



42 WILD OATS. 

we study to please them, not ourselves. But if we 
do furbish a play or two, the Muses sha'n't honour 
that churlish fellow's barn. No, the God that illu- 
mines the soul of genius should never visit the iron 
door of inhumanity. No Gammon's barn for me ! 

Lady Am. Barn! no ;that gallery shall be thy 
theatre ; and, in spite of the grave doctrines of 
Ephraim Smooth, my friends and I, will behold and 
rejoice in thy pranks, my pleasant cousin. 

Rov. My kind, my charming lady ! Hey, brighten 
up, bully Lamp, carpenters, tailor, manager, dis- 
tribute your box tickets for my lady's gallery.— 
" Come, gentle coz," 

*' The actors are at hand., and by their shoxv 

*■'■ Tou shall k7wxv alt 

" That you are like to know.'''' 
("Exeunt i Rov. and Lady Am. r. h. Lamp^ l. h. d.^ 



SCENE II.— The Inn. 
BnterSi'R, George Thunder, (agitated) andhAvn- 

LORD, R. H. 

Sir Geo. I can hear nothing of these deserters; 
yet by my first intelligence, they'll not venture up 
to LoHdon. They must still be lurking about the 
country. Landlord, have any suspicious persons put 
in at your house? 

Landl. Yes, sir ; now and then. 

Sir Geo. Zounds I what do you do with them ? 

Landl. Why, sir, when a man calls for liquor that 
I think has no money, I make him pay beforehand. 

Sir Geo. Damn your liquor, you self-interested 
porpoise ! Chatter your own private concerns, when 
the public good, or fear of general calamity, should 
be the only compass. These fellows that I'm in pur- 
suit of, have run from their ships : if our navy's 
unmann'd, what becomes of you and your house, 
you dunghill cormorant ? 



TVIIiS OATS. 43 

Landl. This is a very abusive sort of a gentleman^ 

Lut he has a full pocket, or he wouldn't be so saucy i 

f Aside. — Exit ^. n.J 

Sir Geo. This rascal, I believe, doesn't know I'm 
Sir George Thunder. Winds still variable, blow my 
affairs right athwart each other. — To know what's 
become of my runagate son Harry — and there my 
rich lady niece, pressing and squeezing up the noble 
plumage of our illustrious family in her little, mean 
quaker bonnet; but I must up to town after — 'Sblood 
when I catch my son Harry ! Oh, here's John Dory. 

Enter John Dory, l. h. 

Have you taken the places in the London coach for 
me ? 

John. Hahoy ! your honour, is that yourself? 

Sir Geo. No, I'm beside myself — heard any thing 
of my son ? — 

John. What's o'clock ? 

Sir Geo. What do you talk of clocks or time-pieces 
— All glasses' reck'ning, and log-line, are run mad 
with me. 

John. If it's two, your son is at this moment 
walking with lady Amaranth in her garden. 

Sir Geo. With Lady Amaranth ? 

Joh7i. If half after, they're cast anchor to rest 
themselves amongst the posies ; if three, they're 
got up again; if four, they're picking a bit of cramm'd 
fowl ; and, if half after, they're picking their teeth 
and cracking walnuts over a bottle of Calcavella. 

Sir Geo. My son ! my dear friend, where did you 
find him ? 

John. Why, I found him where he was, and I 
left him where he is. 

Sir Geo. What, and he came to Lady Amaranth's? 

Joh7i. No ; but I brought him there from this 
house in her ladyship's chariot. I won't tell him 
Master Harry went amongst the players, or he'd 



44 WILD OATS. 

never forgive him. {Aside.) Oh I such a merry, civil, 
crazy, crack-brain ! the very picture of your honour. 

Sir Geo. Ha, ha, ha ! What he's in high spirits ? 
ha, ha, ha ! the dog ! (Joyfully.) But I hope he's 
had discretion enough to throw a little gravity over 
his mad humour, before his prudent cousin. 

John. He threw himself on his knees before her, 
and that did quite as well. 

Sir Geo. Ha, ha, ha ! made love to her already ! 
Oh, the impudent, the cunning villain ! What, and 
may be he — ( With great glee. J 

John. Indeed he did give her a smack. 

Sir Geo. Me! ha, ha, ha J 

John. Oh, he's your's ! a chip of the old block. 

Sir Geo. He is ! he is ! ha, ha, ha ! 

John. Oh, he threw his arms around her as eager 
as I would to catch a falling decanter of Madeira. 

Sir Geo. Huzza ! victoria ! Here will be a junction 
of two bouncing estates ! but confound the money. 
John, you shall have a bowl for a jolly boat to swim 
in ; roll in here a puncheon of rum, a hogshead of 
sugar, shake an orchard of oranges, and let the 
landlord drain his fishpond yonder. (Sings. J " A 
bumper ! a bumper of good liquor," he. 

John. Then my good master. Sir George, I'll 
order a bowl in, since you are in the humour for it 
— " We'll dance a little and sing a little." 

(Exit singing., a. n.J 

Sir Geo. And so the wild rogue is this instant 
rattling up her prim ladyship. Eh, isn't this he I 
Left her already. 

Enter Harry, l. h. s. e. 

Har. I must have forgot my cane in this room. 
—My father ! Eh ! zounds \ 

Sir Geo. (Looks at his Watch.) Just half after 
four ! Why, Harry, you've made great haste ia 
cracking your walnuts. 



WXliB OATS. 45 

Har. Yes, he's heard of my frolics with the play- 
ers. (Aside.) Dear father, if you'll but forgive — 
Sir Geo. Why, indeed, Harry, you've acted very 
bad. 
Har. Sir, it should be considered I was but a novice. 
Sir Geo. However, I shall think of nothing now 
but your benefit. 

Har. Very odd his approving of — (Aside.) I 
thank you, sir, but, if agreeable to you, I've done 
with benefits. 

Sir Geo. If I wasn't the best of fathers, you might 
indeed hope none from me ; but no matter, if you 
can but get the '■'■Fair ^laker.^'' 

Har. Or, " The Humours of the Navy^^'' sir ? 
Sir Geo. What, how dare you reflect on the 
humours of the navy I The navy has very good hu- 
mours, or I'd never see your dog's face again, you 
villain ! But I'm cool. What, eh, boy, a snug, easy 
chariot ? 

Har. I'll order it. Waiter, desire my father's car- 
riage to draw up ! (Calls off\,, n.J 
Sir Geo. Mine, you rogue ! I've none here. I meam 
Lady Amaranth's. 

Har. Yes, sir. Lady Amaranth's chariot ! 

(Calling- off.) 
Sir Geo. What are you at ? I mean that which 
you left this house in. 

Har. Chariot ! sir, I left this house on foot. 
Sir Geo. What, with John Dory ? 
Har. No, sir, with Jack Rover. 
Sir Geo. Why, John has been a rover to be sure j 
but now he's settled since I've made him my valet- 
de-chambre. 

Har. Make him your valet ! Why, sir, where did 
you meet him ? 

Sir Geo. Zounds! I met him on board, and I met 
him on shore, and in the cabin, steerage, gallery, and 
forecastle. He sailed round the world with me. 



46 WZI.D OATS. 

Har. Strange this, sir ! cei-tainly, I understood 
he had been in the East Indies, but he never told 
me he even knew you ; — but, indeed, he knew me 
only by the name of Dick Buskin. 

i'lr Geo. Then how came he to bring you to Lady 
Amaranth's. 

Har. Bring me where ? 

Sir Geo. Answer me. An't you now come from 
her ladyship's ? 

Har. C Stares) Me ! Not I. 

Sir Geo. Ha ! this is a lie of Johii's to enhance 
his own services. Then you have not been there ? 

Har. There ! I don't know where you mean, sir» 

Sir Geo. Yes ; 'tis all a brag of John's, but I'll— 

Enter John Dory, r. h. 

John. The rum and sugar is ready ; but as for 
the fish-pond — ' ■ 

Sir Geo. I'll kick you into it, you thirsty old 
Grampus. 

John. Will you ? Then I'll make a comical roast- 
ed orange. 

Sir Geo. How dare you say you brought my son 
to Lady Amaranth's. 

John. And who says I did not ? 

Sir Geo. He that best should know; only Dick 
Buskin here. 

John. Then, Dick Buckskin might find some other 
amusement than shooting off his guns here. 

Sir Geo. Did you bring my son to Lady Ama- 
ranth's in her chariot ? 

John. And to be sure I did. 

Sir Geo. There, what do you say to that? 

Har. I say it's false. 

John. (Crosses to l. h.j False! shiver my hulk, 
Mr. Buckskin, if you wore a lion's skin, I'd curry 
you for this, (Exity in a rage^ l. h.J 



I 



WILD OATS. 47 

Sir Geo. No, no, John's honest ; I see thro' it now. 
The puppy has seen her, perhaps he has the impu- 
dence not to like her, and so blows up this confusion 
and perplexity only to break off a marriage that I've 
set my heart on. 

Jfar. What does he mean? Sir, I'll assure you — 
Sir Geo. Damn your assurance, you disobedient, 
■ungrateful— I'll not part with you 'till I confront 
vou with Lady Amaranth herself, face to face, and 
If I prove youVe been deceiving me, I'll launch you 
into the wide ocean of life without rudder, compass, 
grog, or tobacco. 
^ ^' (^Exeunt l. h.J 



END OT ACT III. 



48 WILD OATS. 

ACT IV. 

SCENE I. — Lady Amarmith's House. 

Enter Lady Amaranth, readings r, h. 

Lady Am. The fanciful flights of my pleasant 
cousin enchant my senses. This book he gave me 
to read containeth good moral. The man, Shaks- 
peare, that did write it, they call immortal ; he must 
indeed have been filled with a divine spirit. I un- 
derstand, from my cousin, the origin of plays were 
religious mysteries ; that, freed from the supersti- 
tion of early, and the grossness of latter ages, the 
stage is now the vehicle of delight and morality. If 
so, to hear a good play, is taking the wholesome 
draught of precept from a golden cup, emboss'd with 
gems : yet, my giving countenance to have one in my 
house, and even to act in it myself, prove the ascen- 
dancy that my dear Harry hath over my heart — 
Ephraim Smooth is much scandalized at these do- 
ings. 

Enter Ephraim r. h. 

Eph. This mansion is now the tabernacle of Baal. 

Lady A7n. Then abide not in it. 

Eph. 'Tis full of the wicked ones. 

Lady Am. Stay not amongst the wicked ones. 

(Loud laughing without^ R H-J 

Eph. I must shut mine ears. 

Lady Am. And thy mouth also, good Ephraim. I 
have bidden my cousin Henry to my house, and I 
will not set bounds to his mirth to gratify thy spleen, 
and shew mine own inhospitality. 

Eph. Why dost thou suffer him to put into the 
hands of thy servants, books of tragedies, and books 
of comedies, prelude, interlude, yea, all lewd ? My 
spirit cloth wax wrath. I say unto thee, a playhouse is 



WILD OATS. 49 

the school for the old dragon, and a play-book the 
primmer of Beelzebub. 

Lady Am. This is one ; mark! C Reads, J "Not 
" the king's crown, nor the deputed sword, the mar- 
" shal's truncheon, nor the judge's robe, become them 
" with one half so good a grace as mercy doth. Oh, 
" think on that, and mercy then will breathe within 
" your lips like man new made !" — Doth Beelzebub 
speak such words ? 

Eph. Thy kinsman hath made all thy servants ac- 
tors. 

Lady Am. To act well is. good service. 

Eph. Here cometh the damsel for whom my heart 
yeai-neth. 

Enter Jane, (Reading a paper joyfully.) n. h, 

Jane. Oh, ma'am his honour, the squire, says the 
play's to be " As you like it." 

Eph. I like it not. 

Jane. He's given me my character. I'm to be Miss 
Audrey, and brother Sim's to be William of the Fo- 
rest, as it were. But how am I to get my part by 
heart. ? 

Lady Am. By often reading it. 

Jane. Well, I don't know but that's as good as 
any other. But I must study my part. " The gods 
give us joy." C;Exit, r. u.J 

Eph. Thy maidens skip like young kids. 

Lady Am. Then do thou go skip with them. 

Eph. Mary, thou shonld'st be obeyed in thine own 
house, and I will do thy bidding. 

Lady A?n. Ah, thou hypocrite ! to obey is easy, 
when the heart commands. 

Enter Rover, r. h. and goes to Lady Amaranth. 

Rov. Oh, my charming cousin, how agree you and 

Rosalind ? Are you almost perfect ? " Eh, what all 

E 



50 WILD OATS. 



" a-mort, old Clytus ?" " Why, you're like an angry 
" fiend broke in among the laughing gods." — Come, 
come, I'll have nothing here but " quips and cranks, 
" and wreathed smiles, such as dwell on Hebe's 
" cheek." (Looking at Lady Amaranth.) 

Lady Am. He says we mus'n't have this amuse- 
ment. 

Rov. "But I'm a voice potential, double as the 
duke's, and I say, we must." 

Eph. Nay. 

Rov. Yea ; " By Jupiter, I swear, aye," 

(Music without r. h.) 

Eph. I must shut my ears. The man of sin rubbeth 
the hair of the horse to the bowels of the cat. 

Ejiter Lamp, with a Violin, r. h. 

Lamp. Now, if agreeable to your ladyship, we'll 
go over your song. f Crosses to centre. J 

Eph. I will go over it. (^Snatches the book from 
Lamp., throws it on the ground, and steps on it. J 

Rov. Trample on Shakspeare ! " You sacrilegious 
" thief, that, from a shelf the precious diadem stole, 
" and put it in thy pocket !" (Takes up the book and 
presents it to Lady Ainaranth.J — Silence " thou 
owl of Crete," and hear the " Cuckoo's song." 

Lady Am. To practice it I'm content. 
(Lamp begins to play. Eph. jostles him and puts him 
out of tune, he begins again, Ephraim jostles him a 
second time. J 

Lamfi. Why' what's that for, my dear sir ? 

Eph. Friend, this is a land of freedom, and I've 
as much right to move my elbow as thou hast to 
move thine. (Rover comes behind, between Lamp 
and Ephraim and pushes him.) Why dost thou so 
friend ? 

Rov. Friend, this is a land of freedom, and I have 
as much right to move my elbow, as thou hast to 
move; thine. (Mimicking;. — Shoves Eph. out,ii..n.) 
" Verilyl could smite that Amalekite till the going 
*'■ down of the sun." 






WZZaD OATS. 51 

Lady Am. But, Harry, do your people of fahion 
act these follies themselves ? 

Rov. Ay, and scramble for the top parts as eager 
as for st'ar, riband, place, or pension; and no wonder, 
for a good part in a play is the first good character 
some of them ever had. Lamp, decorate the seats 
out smart and theatrical, and drill the servants that 
I've giv'n the small parts to — fE.-'dh Laynp^ r. h.J 

Lady Am. I wished for some entertainment in 
which gay people now take delight, to please those I 
have invited ! but we'll convert these follies into a 
charitable purpose. (Crosses to R. H.) Tickets for this 
day shall be delivered unto my friends gratis ; but 
money to their amount, I will, from my own purse, 
after rewarding our assistants, distribute amongst the 
indigent of the village. Thus, whilst we please our- 
selves, and perhaps amuse our friends, we shall 
make the poor happy. CExit^ R. K.J 

Rov. An angel ! If Sir George doesn't soon ar- 
rive to blow me, I may, I think, marry her angelic 
ladyship ; but will that be honest ? She's nobly born, 
tho' I suspect I had ancestors too, if I knew who 
they were. I certainly entered this house the poorest 
wight in England, and what must she imagine when 
I am discovered? That I am a scoundrel, and conse- 
quently, tho' I should possess her hand and fortune, 
instead of loving, she'll despise me. (Sits down.) I 
want a friend now to consult — deceive her I will not. 
Poor Dick Buskin wants money more than myself, 
yet this is a measure I'm sure he'd scorn. No, no, I 
must not. 

Enter Harry, l. h. 

Har. Now I hope my passionate father will be 
convinced that this is the first time I was ever under 
this roof. Eh, what beau is here ? Astonishing ! my 
old strolling friend ! ( Unperceived sits by Rover. J 



32 WZI.D OATS. 

\Rov. Heigho ! I do'ntknow what to do. 

Har. Chi the same tone. J " Nor what to say." 

Rqv. CTur/is.J Dick Buskin ! My dear fellow; 
Ha, ha, ha ! Talk of the devil, and — I was just 
thinking of you-'pon my soul, Dick, I'm so happy 
to see you.- — CShakes hands cordially.) 

Har. But Jack, eh, perhaps you found me out. 

Rov. Found you ! I'm sure I wonder how the 
deuce you found me out. Ah, the news of my intend- 
ed play has brought you. 

Har. He doesn't know as yet who I am, so I'll 
carry it on. (Aside.) Then, you, too, have broke 
your engagement with Truncheon at Winchester ; 
figuring it away in your stage clothes too. Really 
tell us what you are at here, Jack ? 

Rov. Will you be quiet with your Jacking? I'm 
now 'Squire Harry. 

Har. What ? 

Rov. I've been pressed into this service by an old 
man of war, who found me at the inn, and, insisting 
I'm son to a Sir George Thunder, here, in that cha- 
racter, I flatter myself I have won the heart of the 
charming lady of this house. 

Har. Now the mystery's out. (Aside.) Then it's 
my friend Jack has been brought here for me. Do 
you know the young gentleman they take you for? 

Rov. No ; but I flatter myself he is honoured in 
his representative. 

Har. Upon my soul, Jack, you're a very high 
fellow. 

Rqv. I am, now I can put some pounds in your 
pockets ; you shall be employed — we're getting up — 
*' As Toil Like It.'''' — Let's see, in the cast, have I a 
part for you — egad I'll take Touchstone from Lamp, 
you shall have it, my boy ; I'd resign Orlando to you 
with any other Rosalind : but the lady of the man- 
sion plays it herself, you rogue. 



•WIJmB oats. 53 

Har. The very lady my father, intended for me. 
f Aside. J Do you love her, Jack ? 

J^ov. To distraction : but I'll not have her. 

Har. No! Why? 

I^ov. She thinks me a gentleman, and I'll not con- 
vince her I'm a rascal. 

Har. The generous fellow I ever thought him, and 
he sha'nt lose by it. If I could make him believe — 
C Aside.) — Well, this is the most whimsical affair ! 
You've anticipated, superseded me, ha, ha, ha ! 
You'll scarce believe that I'm come here too, pur- 
posely tho' to pass myself for this voung Henry. 

Rov. No! 

Har. I am. 

Sir Geo. f Without, l. h.J Harry, where are you? 

Rov. Eh ! Who's that ? 

Har. Ah, ah, ah ! I'll try it, my father will be 
cursedly vexed ; but no other way. — C Aside. J 

Rov. Somebody called Harry — Zounds, " if the 
real Simon Pure" should be arrived, I'm in a fine 
way ! 

Har. Be quiet — that's my confederate. 

Rov. Eh ! 

Har. He's to personate the father, Sir George, 
He started the scheme, having heard that a union 
was intended, and Sir George not immediately ex- 
pected — our plan is, if I can, before his arrival, flou- 
rish myself into the lady's good graces, and whip 
her up, as she's an heiress. 

Rov. But who is this comrade ? 

Har. One of our company, a devilish good actor 
in the old man. 

Rov. So you're turn'd fortune-hunter ? Oh, ho ! 
then 'twas on this plan that you parted with me on 
the road, standing like a finger-post, " you walk up 
that way, and I must walk down this." fMimicks.J 
Why, Dick, I did'n't know you were half so capital 
a rogue. 

e2 



54 WILD OATS. 

Har. I didVt know my forte lay that way, 'till 
persuaded by this experienc'd stager. 

Rqv. He must be an impudent old scoundrel ; who 
is he ? Do I know him ? 

Har. Why, no — I hope not. (Aside.) 

Rqv. I'll step down stairs, and have the honour 
of — ^I'U kick him. 

Har. Stop ! — No, I wouldn't have him hurt nei- 
ther. 

Rqv. What's his name ? 

Har. His name is — is — Abrawang. 

Rq^. Abrawang ! Abrawang ! I never heard of 
him ; but, Dick why wou'd you let him persuade 
you to such a scandalous affair ? 

Har. Why, faith, I would have been off it; but 
when once he takes a project into his head, the devil 
himself can't drive him out of it. 

Rov. Yes, but the constable may drive him into 
Winchester gaoh 

Har. Eh ! Your opinion of our intended exploit 
has made me ashamed of myself^ — ha, ha, ha ! 
Harkye Jack, to Jrighten and punish my adviser, do 
you still keep on your character of young 'squire 
Thunder — you can easily do that, as he no more than 
myself, has ever seen the yoiing gentleman. 

Rqv. Well I'll go on with our play, as the 
produce is appropriated to a good purpose, and then 
lay down my 'sqmreship, bid adieu to my heavenly 
Rosalind, and exit for ever from her house, poor 
Jack Rover. (Exit^ r. n.) 

Har. Ha, ha, ha I this is the drollest Rover 

little suspects that I*m the identical 'squire Thunder 
that he personates. — I'll lend him my character a lit- 
tle longer — Yes, this offers a most excellent opportu- 
nit)^ of making my poor friend's fortune, without 
injuring any body ;. if possible he shall have her. 
I can't regret the toss of charms I never knew, and 
%s for an estate, my father's is competent to all m3r 



WXI.D OATS. 55 

wishes. Lady Amaranth, by marrying Jack Rover, 
will gain a man of honoui', which she might miss 
in an earl — it may tease my father a little at first, 
but he's a good old fellow in the main, and I think, 
when he comes to know my motive — Eh! this must 
be she — an elegant woman faith! Now for a spanking 
lie to continue her in the belief that Jack is the man 
she thinks him. 

Enter hABY Amaranth, r. h. 

Ladif Am. Who art thou, friend ? 

Har. Madam, I've scarce time to warn you against 
the danger you are in of being imposed upon by 
your uncle. Sir George. 

Lady Am. How ? 

Hat: He has heard of your ladyship's partiality 
for his son ; but is so incensed at the irregularity 
of his conduct, he intends, if possible, to disinherit 
him ; and, to prevent your honouring him with 
your hand, had engaged, and brought me hither, to 
pass me on you for him, designing to treat the poor 
young gentleman himself as an impostor, in hopes 
you'll banish him your heart and house. 

Lady Am. Is Sir George such a parent ? I thank 
thee for thy caution ! What is thy name ? 

Har. Richard Buskin, ma'am ; the stage is my 
profession. In the young squire's late excuirsion, 
we contracted an intimacy, and I saw so many good 
qualities in him, that I could not think of being the 
instrument of his ruin, nor deprive your ladyship 
of so good a husband, as I'm certain he'll make. 

Lady Am. Then Sir George intends to disown 
him ? 

Har. Yes, ma'am ; I've this moment told the 
young gentleman of it ; and he's determined, for a 
jest, to return the compliment, by seeming to treat 
Sir George himself as an impostor. 

Lady Am. Ha, ha, ha! 'twill be a just retaliatioB, 



56 WZIiB OATS. 

and, indeed, what my uncle deserveth for his cruel; 
intentions both to his son and me. 

-S'ir Geo. f Without. JWh^t, has 

Lady A771. That's mine uncle. 

Har. Yes, here is my father ; and my standing 
out that I am not his son, will rouse him into the 
heat of battle, ha, ha, ha ! (Aside.) Here he is, 
madam, now mind how he will dub me 'squire. 

(Harrij retires up.) 

Lady Am. It's well I'm prepared, or I might have 
believed him. 

Enter Sir George, l. h. 

Sir Geo. Well, my lady, wasn't it my wild rogue 
set you to all the Calcavella capers you've been cut- 
ting in the garden ? You see here I have brought 
him into the line of battle again — you villain, why 
do you drop astern there ? Throw a salute shot, 
buss her bob-stays, bring to, and come down straight 
as a mast, you dog. (Har. comes dorvn centre.) 

Lady Am. Uncle, who is this ? 

Sir Geo. Who is he ? Ha, ha, ha! Gad that's an 
odd question to the fellow that has been cracking 
your walnuts. 

Lady A)n, He is bad at his lesson. 

Sir Geo. Certainly, when he ran from school — why 
don't you speak, you lubber ? you're curst modest 
now, but before I came, 'twas all down amongst the 
posies. Here, my lady, take from a father's hand, 
Harry Thunder. 

Lady Am. That is what I may not. 

Sir Geo. There, I thought you'd disgust her, you 
flat fish ! 

Enter Rover, r. h. 

Lady Am. ( Taking Rover'' s hand.) Here, take from 
my hand, Harry Thunder. 

Sir Geo. Eh ! ("Starijig at Rover. J 

Rov. Eh ! Oh ! This is your sham Sir George ? 

(Apart.J 



WIliD OATS. 57 

Har. (r.h.) Yes; I've been telling the lady, and 
she'll seem to humour him. 

Rov. I shan't tho'. [To Harrij.) How do you do 
Abrawang ? [Crosses to Sir George.) 

Sir Geo. Abrawang ! 

Rov. You look like a good actor. — Ay, that's 
very well, indeed — never lose sight of your charac- 
ter — You know, Sir George, is a noisy, turbulent, 
wicked old seaman. — Angry ! bravo ! — pout your 
under lip, purse your brows — very well ! But, dem 
it, Abrawang, you should have put a little red upon 
your nose — mind a rule, and ever play an angry old 
man, with a red nose. 

Sir Geo. Nose ! {Walks about in a passion.) 

Rov. Very well ! that's right! strut about on your 
little pegs. 

Sir Geo. I'm in such a fury. 

Rov. We know that. Your figure is the most 
happy comedy squab I ever saw, why only shew 
yourself, and you set the audience in a roar. 

Sir Geo. S'blood and fire ! 

Rov. " Keep it up, I like fun.'* 

Lady Am. Who is this? (To Sir Geo. pointing- 
to Rover.) 

Sir Geo. Some puppy unknown. 

Lady Am. And you don't know this gentleman ? 
(To Rover., points to Sir Geo.) 

Rov. " Excellent well ! He's a fishmonger." 

Sir Geo. A what ? 

Lady Am. Yes, father and son are determined 
not to know each other. (To Rov.) You know this 
youth ? 

.Rov. (To Harry.) "My friend, Horatio"— " I 
" wear him in my heart's core, yea, in my heart of 
" hearts," as I do thee. [Embracing Lady Am.) 

Sir Geo. Such freedom with my niece before my 
face ! Do you know that ladyj do you know my son, 
sir ? 



58 \^ILS OATS. 

Rov. Be quiet. " Jaffier has discovered die plot, 
and you can't deceive the Senate." 

Har. Yes, my conscience wou'dn't let me carry 
it thro'. 

Rov. " Ay, his conscience hanging about the neck 
" of his heart, says, good Launcelot, and good Gob- 
"bo, as aforesaid, good Launcelot Gobbo, take to 
" thy heels and run." 

Sir Geo. Why, my lady ! explain, scoundrel and 
puppy unknown. 

Lady A?)i. Uncle, I have heard thy father was 
kind to thee ; — return that kindness to thy child. 
If the lamb in wanton play doth fall among the 
waters, the shepherd taketh him out, instead of 
plunging him deeper till he dieth. Though thy hairs 
now be grey, I'm told they were once flaxen : in 
short, he is too old in folly, who cannot excuse it in 
youth. CExit^ r. h.J 

Sir Geo. I'm an old fool ! Well, that's damn'd 
civil of you, madam niece, and I'm a grey shepherd 
■—with her visions and her vines, and her lanibs 
in a ditch ; but as for you, young Mr. Goat, I'll butt 
you 

Rov. My dear Abrawang, give up the game — 
her ladyship, in seeming to take you for her uncle, 
has been only humming you ! What the devil, don't 
you think the fine creature knows her own true 
born uncle ? 

Sir Geo. Certainly ; to be sure she knows me. 

Rov. Will you have done ? Zounds, man, my 
honour'd father was here himself to-day — Her lady- 
ship knows his person. 

Sir Geo. Your honour'd father ! And who's your 
honour'd self? 

Rov. "Now, by my father's son, and that's myself, 
" it shall be sun, moon, or a Cheshire cheese— be- 
" fore I budge — still cross'd and cross'd." 

Sir Geo. What do you bawl out to me of a 
Cheshire cheese, I say — 



WILD OATS. 6i} 

i?oy. " And I say, as the saying is"- — your friend 
Dick, has told me all; but to convince yovi of my for- 
giveness, in our play, as you're a rough and tough, 
I'll cast you Charles the Wrestler, I do Orlando ; 
I'll kick up your heels before the whole court. 

{Crosses to r. ii.) 

Sir Geo. Why, damme, I'll — And you, you undu- 
tiful chick of an old pelican, f Lifting- up his cane 
to strike Harry .J 

Enter John Dory. l. h. xvho receives the bloxv. 

John. What are you at here ? cudjelling the peo- 
ple about? But Mr. Buckskin, I've a word to say 
to you in private. 

Sir Geo. Buckskin ! take that. (Beats him.) 

(Exeunt Harry and John .^ l. h.J 

Enter Lamp a/ii^ Trap, r. h. and txvo viale.^ and 
txvo Female Servants. 

Lamp. " All the world's a stage, and all the men 
and women" — 

Sir Geo. The men are rogues, and the women 
hussies — I'll make a clear stage. (Beats them.,oj[f v.. 
H. and among the rest strikes Hover, and exit, L. hJ 

Rov. *' A blow ! Essex, a blow !" — An old ras- 
cally impostor stigmatizing me v/ith a blow ! — No, 
I must not put up with it. — Zounds ! I shall be 
tweak'd by the nose all round the country — I'll fol- 
low him. — ••' Strike me ! so may this arm dash him 
to the earth, like a dead dog despised — blindness 
and leprosy, lameness and lunacy, pride, shame, and 
the name of villain light on me if I don't" bang — 
Mr. Abrawang. (Exit., l. h.J 



SCENE II. — Another apartment. 
Enter Lady Amaranth, a?z<^ Banks, l. h. 
Banks. Madam, I could have paid the rent of 
my little cottage j but I dare say 'twas Vi^ithout your 



60 WXI,D OATS 

ladj'ship's knowledge that your steward has turn'd 
me out, and put my neighbour in possession. 

Lady Am. My steward oppress the poor! I did 
not know it indeed. 

Banks. The pangs of adversity I could bear ; but 
the innocent partner of my misfortunes, my unhappy 
sister — 

Lady Am. I did desire Ephraim to send for thy 
sister. — Did she dwell with thee? and both now 
without a home ? Let her come to mine. 

Banks. The hand of misery has struck us beneath 
your notice. 

Lady Am. Thou dost mistake. — To need my as- 
sistance is the highest claim to my attention ; let 
me see her. — fExit Banks., L. H.) 

I could chide myself that these pastimes haye 
turned my eye from the house of woe. Ah ! think, 
ye proud and happy affluent, how many, in your 
dancing moments, pine in want, drink the salt 
tear; their morsel, the bread of misery, and shrink- 
ing from the cold blast into their cheerless hovels. 

Enter Banks, l. h. Leading in Amelia. 

Banks. Madam, my sister. 

( Boxvs and retires., l. h.) 

Lady Am. Thou art welcome — I feel myself in" 
terested in thy concerns, 

Ame. Madam ! 

Lady Am. Is thy brother thy sole kindred ? 

Ame. I had a husband, and a son. 

Lady Am. A widow ! If it recal not images thou 
wouldst forget,— impart to me thy story. — 'Tis 
rumour'd jn the village, thy brother is a clergyman 
—tell me. 

Ame. Madam, he was ; but he has lost his early 
patron ; and is now poor and unbeneficed. 

Lady Am. But thy husband^^ 

4we. By this brother's advice, now twenty years 



-HrZZ.D OATS. 61 

since, I was prevailed on to listen to the addresses 
of a young sea-officer, (for my brother has been a 
chaplain in the navy) but to our surprise and mor- 
tification, we discovered, by the honesty of a sailor 
in whom he put confidence, that the captain's design 
was only to decoy me into a seeming marriage ; he 
ordei-ed him to procure a counterfeit clergyman ; our 
humble friend, instead of us, put the deceit upon 
his master, by concealing from him that my brother 
was in orders ; he, flattered with the hopes of pro- 
curing me an establishment, gave into the supposed 
imposture, and performed the ceremony. 

Lady Am. Duplicity, even with a good intentj 
is ill. 

Ame. Madam, the event has justified your cen- 
sure ; for my husband, not knowing himself really 
bound by any legal tie, abandon'd me — I follov/ed 
him to the Indies, distracted, still seeking him — I 
left my infant at one of our settlements ; but, after a 
fruitless pursuit, on my return, I found the friend to 
whose care I had committed my child, was compel- 
led to retire from the ravages of war, but where I 
could not learn : rent with agonizing pangs, now 
without child or husband, I again saw England, and 
my brother, who, wounded with remorse, for being 
the means of my misfortunes, secluded himself from 
the joys of social life, and invited me to partake the 
comforts of solitude in that humble asylum, from 
whence we've both just now been driven. 

Lady Am. My pity can do thee no good, yet I pity 
thee. Come let thy griefs subside, instead of thy 
cottage, accept thou and thy brother every con- 
venience that my mansion can afford. 

Ame. Madam, I can only thank you with — 

(Weeps.) 

Lady Am. My thanks are here — Come, thou sralt 
be cheerful. I will introduce thee to my sprig tly 
cousin Harry, and his father, my humorous uncle ; 
F 



62 WILD OATS. 

we have delights going forward that may amuse 
thee. 

Ame. Kind lady ! 

Lady Am. Come, smile — tho' a quaker, thou see'st 
I am merry. — The sweetest joy of wealth and power 
is to cheer -another's drooping heart, and wipe from 
the pallid cheek, the tear of sorrow. (Exeunt^ r. h. j 



END OF ACT IV. 



WILD OATS. 63 



ACT V. 

SCENE I.— 'A mod. 
Enter Three RvsTiK-^s^dressed as Sailors^i.. h.u.e. 

1st. Ruf. Well, now, what's to be done ? 

2fl? Ruf. Why, we've been long upon our shifts, 
and after all our tricks, twists, and turns, as Lon- 
don was then too hot for us, our tramp to Portsmouth 
was a hit. 

Zd. Ruf. Ay; but since the cash we touched, upon, 
pretending to be able-bodied seamen, is now come 
to the last shilling, as we have deserted, means of a 
fresh supply to take us back to London must be 
thought on. 

^d. Ruf Ay, how to recruit the pocket without 
hazarding the neck. 

1*^. Rif. By an advertisement posted on the 
stocks, yonder, there are collectors upon this road j 
thirty guineas are offered by the quaker lady, owner 
of the estate round here ; I wish we could snap any 
straggler to bring before her. A quaker will only re- 
quire a yea for an oath — uie might sack these thirty 
guineas. 

"id. Ruf Yes ; but we must take care, if we fall 
into the hands of this gentleman that's in pursuit of 
us — 'Sdeath, isn't that his man, the old boatswain ? 

\st. Ruf. Don't run ; I think we three are a match 
for him. Instantly put on your characters of sailors, 
we may get something out of him ; a pitiful story 
makes such an impression on the soft heart of a true 
tar, that he'll open his hard hand and drop you his 
last guinea. — If we can but make him believe we 
were pressed, we have him, only mind me. 



64. WILD OATS. 

Enter John Dory, l. h. 

John. To rattle my lantern, — Sir George's tem- 
per now always blows a hurricane. 

2d. Riif. What cheer ? ^ (To John.) 

3d. Ruf. Bob, up with your speaking trumpet. 
^d. Ruf. Do you see, brother, this is the thing — 

Enter ^iVi George at the bach.,iinperceived^-L. h. u.e. 

Sir Geo. If these should be my deserters. C Aside. J 

1st. Ruf. We three hands, just come home after a 
long voyage, were pressed in the river, and, without 
letting us see our friends, brought round to Ports- 
mouth, and there we entered freely, 'cause why ? 
We had no choice, then we run. We hear some gen- 
tleman is in chase of us, so as the shot are all out, 
we'll surrender. 

John. Surrender ! Oh, then you've no shot left 
indeed — lets see. (Feels his pocket.) I hav'nt the 
loading of a gun about me now, and this same 
Monsieur Poverty is a bitter bad enemy. 

Sir Geo. They are the deserters that I've been 
after. {Aside.) 

John, Meet me in an hour's time, in the little 
v/ood yonder, I'll raise a wind to blow you into safe 
latitude. Keep out to sea, my ?7ioster^s the rock you'll 
certainly split upon. 

2d Ruf. This is the first time we ever saw you, 
but we'll steer by your chart, for I never knew one 
seaman to betray another. (Exeunt Ru^ans, l. h.) 

Sir Geo. Then they have been pressed — I can't 
blame them so much lor running away. 

John. Yes, Sir George would certainly hang 'em. 

(Half aside.) 

Sit Geo. 1 wou'dn't, they shall eat beef, and drink 
success to the navy, run and tell them so — stop, I'll 
tell them myself. (Crosses to l. h.) 



WXZ.D OATS. €5 

John. Why, now you are yourself, and a kind, 
good gentleman, as you used to be. 

Sir Geo. Since these idle rogues are inclined to 

return to their duty, they sha'n't want sea-store — 

take them this money — but hold — I'll meet them 

myself, and advise them as I would my children. 

{Exeunt^ Sir George^ l. h. Jo/tw, r. H.j 



SCENE 11.—^ Wood. 

Enter Rover, l. h. greatly agitated^ with pistols. 

Rov. Which way did Mr. Abrawangtake ? Dick 
Buskin, I think, has no suspicion of my intentions : 
' — such a cholerick spark will fight, I dare say. If 
I fall, or even survive this affair, I leave the field of 
love and the fair prize to the young gentleman IVe 
personated, for I'm determined to see lady Ama- 
ranth no more — oh, here comes Abrawang. 

(Puts lip the pistols.) 

Enter Sir George, l. h. 

Sir Geo. Now to relieve these foolish seagulls— 
they roust be hovering about this coast — Ha! puppy- 
unknown ! — 

Rov. You're the very man I was seeking.— You 
are not ignorant, Mr. Abrawang — 

Sir Geo. Mr. what? 

Rov. You will not resign your title, ha, ha, ha ! 
Oh, very well, I'll indulge you ; — Sir George Thun-^ 
der, you honoured me with a blow. 

Sir Geo. Did it hurt you ? 

Rov. 'Sdeath ! but let me proceed like a gentle- 
man ; as it's my pride to reject even favours, no 
man shall offer me an injury. 

Sir Geo. Eh ! 

Rov, In rank we're equal. 
f2 



66 WILD OATS. 

Sir Geo. Are we faith ? (Smiling.) The English 
of all this is, weVe to fight. 

Rov. Sir, you've marked on me an indelible stain, 
only to be washed out by blood. 

Sir Geo. Why, I've only one objection to fighting 
you. 

Rov. What's that, sir ? 

Sir Geo. That you're too brave a lad to be killed. 

JRov. Brave ! No, sir ; at present I wear the stig- 
jna of a coward. 

Sir Geo. Zounds ! I like a bit of fighting — hav'n't 
bad a morsel a long time — don't know when I've 
smelt gunpowder — but to bring down a woodcock. 

Rov. Take your ground. 

Sir Geo. Yes, sir ; but are we to thrust with bul- 
rushes, like two frogs, or, like squirrels, to pelt each 
other with nut-shells ? For I see no other weapons 
here. 

Rov. Oh yes, sir; here are weapons. 

C Presenting- pistols. J 

Sir Geo. Well, this is bold work, for a privateer 
to give battle to a ship of the line. 

Rov. Try your charge, sir, and take your ground. 

Sir Geo. I would not wish to sink, burn, or des- 
troy, what I think was built for good service ; but, 
damme,^ if I don't wing you, to teach you better 
manners — so take care of your copper nose. 

Enter the Three Ruffians, not perceiving Rover, 

\2d Ruffian seizes a7id wrenches the piece from Sir 
George.) 

Sir Geo. Ah, boys ! 

{2d Ruffian presents the piece at Sir George^ Rovef 

advances quicky and knocks it from his hand. They 

run off., L. H.) 

Rov. Rascals \ (Pursues them.) 

Sir Geo, ( Takes up the fther piece.) My brave lad! 

I»ll^ fGoing, L. H.; 



IXTZZiD OATS. 67 

Enter John dory, r. h. 

John. No, you sha'n't (Holding him. J 

Si7- Geo. The rogues will — 

Jjhn. Never mind the rogues. — (Noise of fglit- 
ing xvithout., a piece let off.) 

Sir Geo. 'Sbiood .' must I see my preserver perish. 

(Struggling.) 

John. Well, I know I'm your preserver, and I 
will perish, but I'll bring you out of harm's way. 

(Still holding him.) 

Sir Geo, Tho' he'd fight me himself — 

John. Sure we all know you'd light the devil. 

Sir Geo. He saved my life. 

John. I'll save your life, f Whips him up in his 
arms. J So hey ! haul up, my noble little erab-walk, 

(Exeunt.^ r. b..J 



SCENE III.— J Room in Banks's Cottage. 

Enter Farmer Gammon, Banks, ajid Sim, r. Hj 
(Sim writing and crying. J 

F. Gam. Boy, go on with the inventory. 

Sim. How unlucky ! — Feyther to lay hold of me 
when I wanted to practice my part. (Aside. J 

Banks. This proceeding is very severe, to lay an 
execution on my wretched trifling goods, when I 
thought — 

F. Gam. Ay, you know you've gone up to the 
big house with your complaint — her ladyship's 
steward, to be sure, has made me give back your 
cottage, and farm ; but your goods I seize for my 
rent. 

Banks. Only leave me a very few necessaries— 
by the goodness of my neighbours, I may soon re- 
deem what the law has put in your hands. 

F. Gam. The affair is now in my lawyer's hands, 



68 VriLD OATS. 

and plaintiff and defendant chattering about it, is 
all smoke. 

>Shn. Feyther, don't be so cruel to Mr. Banks. 

F. Gam. I'll mark what I may want to keep for 
myself. Stay here, and see that not a pin's worth be 
removed without my knowledge. {Aside to Sim.) 

(Exit., R. H.) 

Sim. I'll be dom'd if I'll be your watch-dog, to 
bite the poor, that I won't. [Sits on the table.) Mr. 
Banks, as feyther intends to put up your goods at 
auction if you could but get a friend to buythe choice 
of them for you again. Sister Jane has got stew- 
ard to advance her a quarter's wages, and when I've 
gone to sell corn for feyther, besides presents, I've 
made a market penny now and then. Here — it's not 
much; but every little helps. ( Takes out a small 
leather purse., and offers it to Banks.) 

Banks. I thank you, my good-natured boy ; but 
keep your money. 

Sim. Last summer, you saved me from being 
drown'd in Black Pool. 

Banks. I don't remember that. 

Sim. Don't you, but I'm dom'd if ever I forget 
it ; if you'll not take this, ecod, I'll go to the pool 
directly and fling it in, and let old Nick save it from 
being drown'd, an'he can. (Going.) 

Bafiks. My kind lad, then I'll not hurt your feel- 
ings by opposing your liberality. (Takes it.) 

Sim. He, he, he ! you've now given my heart such 
a pleasure as I never felt, nor I'm sure feyther afore 
me. 

Banks. But, Sim, whatever may be his opinion 
of worldly prudence, still remember he's your 
parent. 

Sim. I will. "—One elbow chair, one claw table, 
one little Dicky bird in a cage." 

(Exit., Sim, writing, r, h, Banks, l. h.J 



I 



'UTII.D OATS. 69 

Enter Amelia, r. h. s. e. 

Ame, The confusion into which Lady Amaranth's 
family is thrown by the sudden departure, and ap- 
prehended danger of her young cousin, must have 
prevented her ladyship from giving that attention to 
our affairs, that I'm sure was her inclination. If I 
can but prevail on my brother too, to accept her pro- 
tection. — Heaven's ! who's this ? (Retires^ r. h.j 

jEn^cr Rover, l. h. hastily^ his hair and dress much 
disordered. 

Rov. What a race! (Panting.) I've at last got 
from the blood-hounds ! (Sits on the table.) Ah, if 
old Abrawang had but followed and backed me, 
we'd have tickled their catastrophies; but when they 
got me alone, three upon one were odds ; so, safe's 
the word — whose house is this I've dashed into ? 
Eh, the friendly cottage of my old gentleman — are 
you at home? (Calls.) Gadso ! I had a hard strug- 
gle for it ; yes inurder, was their intent, so it was 
well for me that I was born without brains ! I'm 
quite weak, faint ! (Leans on the Table.) 

Ame. (Advancing.) Sir f an't you well? (With con- 
cern. J 

Rov. Madam, I ask pardon, — hem, yes Ma'am, 
very well, I thank you — now exceeding well — got 
into a fray there, in a kind of a hobble with some 
worthy gentlemen ; only simple, honest farmers. I 
fancy they mistook me for a sheaf of barley, for they 
down with me, and then, and then thresh'd so hear- 
tily, gad, their flails flew merrily about my ears, but 
I got up, and when I could no longer fight like a 
mastiff, why, I — ran like a grey hound — But, dear. 
Ma'am pray excuse me. Egad, this is very rude, 
faith. 

Ame. You seem disturbed; (With emotion.) wWl 
you take any refreshment ? 

Rev. Madam, you're very good. (Sits on the 
table.) Only a little of your currant wine, if you 

(: 



70 W1I.D OATS. 

please ; if I don't forget it stands — just — f Points 
off^ R. H. s. E. — Amelia goes off^ Pw. H. s. e. and brings 
some^) upon. the second shelf on your right hand. 
Madam, I've the honour of drinking your health. 

{Drinlis.) 

Ame. I hope you're not hu.rt, sir. 

Rov. " A little better, but very weak still" — I had 
a sample of this before, and liked it so much, that, 
Madam — " Won't you take another ?" 

Ame. Sir ! {She declines.^ 

Rov. Madam, if you'd been fighting, as I have, 
you'd — well, well, {Fills and drinks.) Now I'm as 
well as any man—*' In Illyria," got a few hard 
knocks tho'. 

Ame. You'd better repose a little, you seemed 
much disordered coming in. 

Rov. (Places a chair, they sit.) Why, Ma'am, you 
must know, thus it was — 

Enter Twitch, r. h. 
(As Amelia is going to sit, and takes the chair fr 011(1 
her.) 

Twitch. Come, Ma'am, Mr. Gammon says this 
chair is wanted to make up the half dozen above. 

(Sits in the chair. J 

Rov. What ! what's all this ? 

Tivitch. Why, the furniture's seized on execution, 
and a man must do his duty. 

Rov. Then, scoundrel, know, that a man's first du- 
ty is civility and tenderness to a woman. (Rover 
throws Tivitch out of the chair.) • 

Ame. Heavens ! where's my brother ? This gen- 
tleman will bring himself into trouble. [Retires.) 

Tzvitch. Master, d'ye see, I'm representative for 
his honour the High Sheriff. 

Rov. Eveiy High Sheriff should be a gentleman, 
and when he's represented by a rascal, he's dis- 
honoured. — Dem it, I might as well live about Co- 
vent Garden, and every night get beating the watch; 



WSI.D OATS. 71 

for here, among groves and meadows, I'm always 
squabbling with constables. fRo'-oer shs^Tiuitch takes 
chair. Rover catches the stick from Twitch. J 

Twitch. Come, come, I must — 

Rov. " As you say, sir, last Wednesday, so it 
was." — Sir, your most obedient humble servant — 
( Boxvs respectfully.,) Piay, Sir, may I take the li- 
berty t'j know, have you ever been astonished ? 

C With g'reat ceremony.) 

Twitch. ^ What ? 

Rov. Because, sir, I intend to asonish you ; my 
dear fellow, give me your hand. (Takes hiin by 
the hancl^ beats him — he starts away to K. h.) Now^ 
sir, you are astonished. 

Twitch. Yes ; but see if I don't suit you with an 
action. 

Rov. " Right, suit the actio?! to theword^ the v/ord 
to the action, see if the gentlewoman be not affright- 
ed" — " Michael, I'll make thee an example." 

Twitch. Yes, fine example, when goods are seiz- 
ed here, by the law, and — 

Rov. " Thou worm and maggot of the law !" 
*' Hop me over every kennel, or you shall hop with- 
out my custom." 

Twitch. I don't value your custom. 

Rov. You are astonished, now I'll amaze you. 

Twitch. No, sir, I won't be amazed — but only 
see if I don't-^ 

Rov. Hop ! 
("Exit Twitch^ beaten off' by Rover., l. h. who also 
goes off\^. H.J 

Ame. I feel a strange curiosity to know who this 
young gentleman is. I find my heart interested, I 
can't account for — he must have known the house by 
the freedom — but then his gaiety, (without familiar 
rudeness) native elegance of manners, and good 
breeding, seem to make him at home any where — > 
My brother, I think, must know-^ 



72 WXLD OATS. 

Enter Banks, l. h. hastily^ and agitated. 

Banks. Amelia, did you see the young gentleman 
that was here ? Some ruffian fellows, and a posse 
of the country people have bound and dragged him 
from the door, on the allegation of three men who 
mean to swear he has robbed them. And they have 
taken him to Lady Amaranth's. 

Ame . How ! He did enter here in confusion as if 
pursued ; but I'll stake my life on his innocence. 

Banks. The freedom of his censures on Farmer 
Gammon's conduct, and the friendly office he did ^ 
me, has brought the sordid churl's malice on him, 
and he has encouraged these ruffians, in hopes of 
the reward offered by Ephraim Smooth, for appre- 
hending footpads, to drag the young fellow up to 
Lady Amaranth's, where the Farmer says, he has 
already appeared in a feigned character. 

Aine. I'll speak to Lady Amaranth, and in spite 
of calumny, he shall have justice ; be would not let 
me be insulted, because he saw me an unprotected 
woman, without a husband or a son, and shall he 
want an advocate ? Brother, come. CExeunt, l. h.^ 



SCENE IV. — A Dressing- Room at Lady Ama' 
rantK's; a Toilet on. 

Enter Jane, r. h. xvith a light. 

Jane. I believe there's not a soul in the house but 
myself; my lady has sent all the folks round the 
country to search after the young 'squire, she'll cer- 
tainly break her heart if any thing happens to him ; 
I dun't wonder, for surely he's a dear, swe>.t gentle- 
man, the pity of it is, his going spoils all our fine 
play, and I had just got my part quite by heart; 
however, I must do the room up for Mr. Banks'^ 
sister, that my lady has invited here. 

(^Adjusts the Toilet.) 



WILD OATS. 73 

Enter Ephraim Smooth, r. h. 

Eph. The man, John Dory, has carried the man 
George, hither in his arms, and has locked him up. 
Coming into the house, they did look to me like a 
blue lobster with a shrimp in his claws — Oh, here 
is the damsel I love, and alone. 

Jane. They say when folks look in the glass at 
night, they see the black gentleman. (As she^s look- 
ing in the glass., Ephraim goes and peeps over her 
shoulders; she screams. J 

Eph. Thou art employ 'd in vanity. 

Jane. Well, who wants you ? 

Eph. It is natural for woman to love man. 

Jane. Yes ; but not such ugly men as you are. 
Why would you coine in to frighten me, when you 
know there's nobody here but ourselves, 

Eph. I am glad of that. I am the elm, and thou 
the honey-suckle ; let thy arms entwine me. 

Jane. Oh, what a rogue is here ! but yonder comes 
my Lady, and I'll shew him off to her in his true 
colours. fAside.J 

Eph. Clasp me around. 

Jane. Well, I will, if you'll take off your hat, 
and make me a fine low bow. 

Eph. I cannot bend my knee, nor take off my bea- 
ver. 

Jane. Then you're very impudent. — Go along. 

Eph. But to win thy favour. 

f Takes offhis hat and bows. J 

Jane. Now kneel down to me. 

Eph. I cannot, but one lovely smile may smile me 
down. (She smiles^ he kfieels.J 

Jane. Well now, read me a speech out of that 
fine play-book. 

Eph. 1 read a play ! a-bo-mi-na-ti-on .'—But, Jane 
wilt thou kiss me ? 

Jane. I kiss a man ! — a-bo-mi-na-ti-on ! fMimick- 
^^^'J . But you may take my hand. 
t G 



T4 WILD OATS. 

Eph. Oh ! 'tis a comfort to the lip of the faithful. 
f Kisses her hand. J 

Enter Lady Amaranth, r. h. 

Lady Am. How ! (Taps him gently on the shoul- 
der^ he looks up confounded) Ah, thou sly and deceitful 
hypocrite ! 

Eph. Verily Mary, I was buffetted by Satan in 
the shape of a damsel. 

Lady Am. Begone ! 

Eph. My spirit is sad, tho' my feet move so nim- 
ble. (Exit, very slowly, r. h.^ 

Lady Am, But, Oh, heavens, no tidings of my 
dearest Henry i Jane, let them renew their search. 

Jane. Here's Madam Amelia, you see I've got 
her room ready ; but I'll go make brother Sim look 
for the young 'squire (Exit, l. h.) 

Enter Amelia, l. h. 

Ame. Oh, Madam, might I employ your influence 
with — 

Lady Am. Thou art ill accommodated here ; but 
I hope thou wilt excuse — My mind is a sea of 
trouble, my peace shipwreck'd--=rOh, friend, hadst 
thou seen my cousin Harry, thou tQO, all who knew 
him, must be anxious for his safety — ■ 

John, (Without^ l. h.) Heave a-head. 

Enter Sir George, an<3^ John Dory, l. H. 

Sir Geo. Rascal! whip me up like a pound of tea, 
dance me about like a young bear, make me quit the 
preserver of my life ! yes, puppy unknown will 
think me a poltroon, and that I was afraid to follow 
and second him. 

John. Well, you may as well turn into your 
hammock ; for out to night you shall not budge— 
(Sees Amelia.) Oh! marcy of heaven ! isn't it — Eh, 
master ? Only give one look. 



WILD OATS. 75 

Ame. {Seeing Sir George.) 'M.yh^x%h2cci6.\— (Swoons; 
Lady Amaranth supports her.) 

Sir Geo. 'Tis my Amelia ! 

John. {Stopping Sir Geo.andlookiyig attentively at 
Amelia.) Reef the foresail ! first, you crack'd her 
heart by sheering off, and now, you'll overset her 
by bringing to. — ' 

Ame. Ai-e you at length returned to me, my 
Seymour ? 

Lady Am. Seymour! her mind is disturbed, this 
is mine uncle, Sir George Thunder. 

Joh7i. No, no, my lady, she knows what she's 
saying, very well. 

Sir Geo. Niece, I have been a villain to this lady 
I confess. But, my dear Amelia, Providence has 
done you justice in part. From the first month I 
quitted you, I have never entered one happy hour 
on my journal ; hearing that you had founder'd, 
and considering myself the cause, the worm of re- 
morse has gnawed my timbers. 

Ame. You're not still offended with me. 

Sir Geo. Me ! can you forgive my offence, and 
condescend to take my hand as an atonement ? 

Ame. Your hand ! Do you forget that we are al- 
ready married. 

Sir Geo. Ay, there was my rascality. 

John. You may say that. 

Sir Geo. Hold your tongue, you impudent crimp, 
you pander, you bad adviser, — I'll strike vsxy false 
colours, I'll acknowledge the chaplain you provided 
was-— 

John. Was a good man, and a greater honour to 
his black, than your honour has been to your blue 
cloth — Eh, by the word of a seaman, here he is 
himself. 

Enter Banks, r. h. 

Sir Geo. Your brother ! 

Banks. Captain Seymour ! have I found you sir? 
(Crosses to Sir Geo.) 



^3 WILD OATiS. 

^ Sir Geo. My dear Banks, I'll make every repara- 
tion. Amelia shall really be my wife. 

Ba}iks. That, sir, my sister is already ; for when 
I performed the marriage ceremony, which you' 
took only as the cloak of your deception, I was ac- 
tually in orders. 

John. CGoes to Sir Geo.) Now who's the crimp, 
and the pander ? I never told you this ; since, be- 
cause I thought a man's own reflections were the 
best punishment for betraying an innocent woman. 

Sir Geo. You shall be a post-captain, sink me, if 
you sha'n't. — CShakes hands with John Dofif, who 
retires up the stage with Banks. J 

Lady Am. Madam, my inmost soul partaketh of 
thy gladness, and joy for thy reformation. {To Sir 
George. J But thy prior marriage to this lady, annuls 
the subsequent, and my cousin Harry is not now thy 
heir. 

Sir Geo. So much the better ; he's an unnatural 
cub ; but, Amelia, I flatter myself I have an heir, 
my infant boy. — 

Ame. Ah, husband, you had ; but — 

Sir Geo. Gone ! well, well, I see I have been a 
miserable scoundrel— Eh, I will, yes, I'll adopt that 
ferave, kind lad, that wouldn't let any body kill me 
but himself. He shall have my estate, that's my own 
acquisition — My lady, marry him, puppy unknown's 
a fine fellow ! Amelia, only for him, you'd never 
have found out your husband Captain Seymour, in 
Sir George Thunder. 

Ame. What? 

Banks, Are you Sir George Thunder I 

Enter Ephraim, l. h. 

Eph. I am come to sit in judgment, for there is a 
bad man in thy house, Mary. Bring him before me. 

Sir Geo. Before you old squintabus ? And perhaps 
you don't know I'm a magistrate ? 



WILD OATS. rr 

Eph. I'll examine him. 

Sir Geo. You be damn'd — I'll examine him my^ 
self. (Shoves Ephrahn) Tow him in here. Ill 
give him a passport to Winchester bilboes. 

Ame. {Kneels to Sir Geo.) Oh, sir, as you hope 
for mercy, extend it to this youth ; he protected, 
relieved your forsaken wife, and her unhappy 
brother, in the hour of want and sorrow. 

Sir Geo. What, Amelia, plead for a robber ! 
Consider, my love, justice is above bias or partial- 
ity. If my son violated the laws of his country ! 
I'd deliver him up a public victim to disgrace and 
punishment. 

Lady Am. Oh, my impartial uncle ! Had thy 
country any laws to punish him, who, instead of 
paltry gold, would rob the artless virgin of her 
dearest treasure, in the rigid Judge, I should now 
behold the trembling criminal. 

Enter Twitch rvith Rover, bou7id, xvho keeps 

his face averted behind his hat^ and two of the 

Rii-ffians^ l. h. 

Eph. [Advances.) Speak thou. 

Sir Geo. Hold thy clapper, thou. Who are the 
prosecutors ? 

Eph. Call in — 

Sir Geo. Will nobody stop his mouth ? [John 
Dory carries him up the stage.) Where arc the 
prosecutors ? 

Txvitch. There, tell his worship, the justice. 

2d Rif. Ajustice— Oh! the devil! I thought we 
should have nothing but quakers to deal with. 

(Aside.) 

Sir Geo. Come, how did this fellow rob you ? 

2d Ruf Why, your honour, I'll swear — [In a 
feigned country voice.) 

g2 



78 WXI.D OATS. 

Sir Geo. Clap down the hatches ; secure these 
sharks. 

John. That I will. 

jRov. I thought I should find you here, Abrawang-, 
and that you had some knowledge of these fellows. 

Lady Am. Heavens ! my cousin Harry ! (Aside.) 

Sir Geo. The devil ! isn't this my spear and 
shield ? 

John. (Advances.) My young master — What, have 
they got you in the bilboes? Oh ! what have you been 
at here ? This rope may be wanted. C Unbinds him. J 

Enter Harry, l. h. 

Har. My dear fellow, are you safe. 

Rov. Yes, Dick, I was brought in here very safe, 
I assure you. 

Har. A confederate in custody below has made a 
confession of their villainy, that they concerted this 
plan to accuse him of a robbery, first, for revenge, 
then, in hope to share the reward for apprehending 
him ; he also owns they are not sailors, but depre- 
dators on the public. 

John. Aye, I knew the rope would be wanted. 

Sir Geo. Keep them safe in limbo. C The Ruffians 
are taken off., l. th.) — Not knowing that the Justice 
of Peace whom they've brought the lad now here 
before, is the very man they attack'd, ha, ha, ha! 
The rogues have fallen into their own snare. 

Rov. What, now, you're a Justice of the Peace ? 
—Well said, Abrawang ! 

Ame. Then, Sir George, you know him too ? 

Sir Geo. Know puppy unknown I to be sure. 

Rov. Still, Sir George ! What, then, you will not 
resign your knighthood ? Madam, I am happy to see 
you again. C Crosses to Amelia. J Ah, how do you 
do, my kind host ? (Crosses and shakes hands xvith 
Banks.) 



VrXIaD OATS. r9 

Lady Am. I rejoice at thy safety, — Be reconciled 
to him. (To Sir George. J 

Sir Geo. Reconciled ! — If I don't love, respect, 
and honour him, I should be unworthy of the life 
he rescued. But who is he ? 

JIar. Sir, he is — 

jRov. Dick, I thank you for your good wishes ; but 
I am still determined not to impose on this lady. — 
Madam, as I at first told this well-meaning tar, when 
he forced me to your house, I am not the son of Sir 
George Thunder. 

John. No ! Then I wish you were the son of an 
admiral, and I your father. 

Har. You refuse the lady ? To punish you I've 9. 
mind to take her myself. My dear cousin — 

J^ov. Stop Dick. — If I v/ho adore her, won't, you 
shall not. No, no ; madam, never mind what this 
fellow says, he's as poor as myself — Isn't he, Abra- 
wang? 

JIar. Then, my dear Rover, since you are so ob- 
stinately disinterested, I'll no longer teaze my father, 
whom you here see, and in youi- strolling friend, his 
very tr^iiant Harry, that ran from Portsmouth school, 
and joined j^ou and your fellow comedians. 

J^ov. Indeed ! 

Har. fCrosses to Lady Amaranth.) Dear cousin, 
forgive me, if thro' my zeal for the happiness of my 
friend, I endeavoured to promote yours, by giving 
you a husband more v/orthy than myself. 

( To Lady Amaranth.) 

Rov. Am I to believe ! Madam, is your uncle, 
Sir George Thunder, in this room ? 

Lady Am. He is. (Looking at Sir George. J 

Rov. 'Tis so ! you are in reality, what I've had the 
impudence to assume ! and have perplexed your fa- 
ther with my ridiculous effrontery. {Crosses to John 
Dory^ angrily.) I told you, I insisted I was not the 
person you took me for, but you must bring your 



80 WILD OATS. 

damn'd chariot ! I am ashamed, and mortified. Ma- 
dam, I beg to take my leave. 

Eph. (r. h.) Thou art welcome to go. (John Dory 
pushes Ephraim up stage^ xvho seats himself at Toi^ 
lette.J 

Rov. (Bows and crosses to Sir George.) Sir Geo. 
as the father of my friend, I cannot lift my hand 
against you ; but I hope, sir, you'll apologize tome. 

(Apart.) 

Sir Geo. Ay, with pleasure, my noble splinter — 
now tell me from what dock you were launch'd my 
heart of oak ! 

Rov. I've heard, in England, sir; but from my 
earliest knowledge, till within a very few years, I've 
been in the East Indies. 

Sir Geo. Be3''ond seas ? Well, and how ? 

Rov. It seems I was committed an infant to the 
care of a lady, who was herself obliged by the gentle 
Hyder Ally, to strike her toilet, and decamp without 
beat of drum, leaving me, a chubby little fellow, 
squatted on a carpet. A Serjeant's wife alone return- 
ed, and snatched me off triumphant, thro' fire, smoke, 
cannon, cries and carnage. 

Lady Am. Dost thou mark ? (To Amelia.') 

Ame. Sir, can you recollect the name of the 
town where 

Rov. Yes, ma'am the town was Negapatnam. 

Ame. I thank you, sir. 

(Gazes rvith delight and earnestness on Rover.) 

Rov. An officer who'd much rather act Scrub on the 
stage, than Hotspur in the field, brought me up behind 
the scenes at the Calcutta theatre — I was roU'd on 
the boards; acted myself into the favour of a colonel, 
promised a pair of colours ; but, impatient to find my 
parents, hid myself in the steerage of an homeward 
bound ship, [Ephraim comes doxvn r. h. corner.) 
assumed the name of Rover from the uncertainty 
of my fate, and having murdered more poets than 
Rajahs, stepton English ground unencumbered with 



WILD OATS. 81 

rupees or pagodas. Ha, ha ! would'st thou come 
home so, little Ephraim ? 

Eph. Nay ; I would have brought myself home 
with some money. CExit^ Ephraim^ r. h.J 

Amc. Excuse my curiosity, sir, what was the la- 
dy's name in whose care you were leift. 

Rov. Oh, ma'am, she was the lady of a Major 
Linstock ; but I heard my mother's name was Sey- 
nxour ? 

Sir Geo. Why, Amelia ? 

Ame. My son ! 

Rov, Madam I 

Ame. It is my Charles ! {Embraces him.. 

John. (Sing's and capers.) Tol, lol, lol, tho' I ne- 
ver heard it before, my heart told me he was a chip 
of the old block. 

Ame. Your father ! — 

CTo Rover^ pointing- to Sir George. J 

Rov. Can it! — Heaven! then have I attempted 
to raise my impious hand against a parent's life ! 

Sir Geo. My dear, brave boy ! Then have I a son 
with spirit to fight me as a stranger, yet defend me 
as a father. 

Lady Am. Uncle, you'll recollect 'twas I who first 
introduced a son to thee. ( Takes him by the hand.} 

Sir Geo. And I hope you'll next introduce a 
grandson to me, young sly boots. — (Joins their 
Hands^ and goes l. n.) — Harry, you've lost your 
fortune. 

Har. Yes, sir, but I've gained a brother ; whose 
friendship (before I knew him to be such) I prized 
above the first fortune in England. 

Rov. My dearest Rosalind ! 

Ame. Then, will you take our Charles. 

(To Lady Am.) 

Lady Am. Yea ; but only on condition thou be- 
stowest thy fortune on his friend and brother, mine 
is sufficient for us, is it not ? 



82 



WILD OATS. 



Rov. Angelic creature ! — to think of my generous 
friend — But now for " As You Like It." Where's 

Lamp and Trap — I shall ever love a play A spark 

from Shakspeare's muse of fire, was the star that 
guided me through my desolate and bewildered 
maze of life, and brought me to these' unexpected 
blessings. 

To inerit friends so good^ so sweet a xvife^ 
The tender husband be my part for life ; 
My Wild Oats sown, let candid Thespian laws 
Decree that glorious harvest — your applause. 



Disposition of the Characters xvhen the Curtain falls. 




CURTAIN. 



L. H. 



IP 



JVST PUBLISHED 

Ty A. R Poole, M 66, C/iesnut Sfn 



II 

{BE 



NEW NOVEL. 

THE HEARTS OF STEEL, anlrish Historical Tale of the 
last centuiy bv the author of the Wilderness, O^Halloran, 
oic. Sic. 2 vols. 12mo. ' 

rufvp?f ?;i?^^^^'^ MimCAL TADE MECUM AND 

.^?nf f ^^^^'' f?'^^^^'?^-^""^"'^"ff ^ '^^"^i^^ State, 
ment ot the most known and certain causes, symptoms and 
inodes of curing: every disorder to which he is liable, with 
ciirections forhis conduct in case of accidents, on the road 
orat sea, mplam English. 

^OJ^VERSATIO^S OJv7oTJm',\nth 21 coloured 

^l^ngravmg-s. The object of this work is to enable vouS 

'ersonsto acquire aknowledg-e of the yegitable productions 

t their native country; for this purpose the arrangement 

Linn^us ,s bnefiy explamed ; and a nati..e. olant of eacli 

the principal foreign species. °^ ^"'"^ °^ 

Upawtagsby Thomas DoSV,"'"""''' '^l""'""' '"» 



The proprietors 1-avc the plcasur 

NO. 2. 
MUCH .WO .flBOUT JS'OTHTJ^T.; 

Embellished with a Portrait o^ 

MISS KELLY. 

IN THE CHARACTER OF ny.\TT<lCE. 
And be issued on the iCW,-. 

The proprietors be.' ''^'•^^ 

sarilv be delayed. , . , , , ,, .i,^ 

To enable them lo comply with ihcir P^"'";'.;-'^ \'; ^^ 
time of publication, it Is indispensably requisite tliat the 
fiLravings shouldbe in such a state of for^varaness as to 
pre^^ent the possibiUty of cUsappointment > ' :- Sav 

will also enable theiv distant friends to io, in- 

scription lists, as the proprietors restry.. '^ • ;, i,!" 
theUvilege of withdrawing the pubhcatioa alter Ike Wth 
Portrait, should the patronage of the pubuc not be ex- 
tended to tiie requisite number origmaily p-or-M-.i >n tne 
Prospectus. 



The following Portraits in the hrmd . of Ar, 
Noagle, are in forwardness expre ais 

Work. 

Miss KELLY. Mr.DUFF. Mr. WOOD. 
Mrs. FRANCIS. Mrs. DUFF. Mr. LE£, 
fof N. Y.) Mrs. DARLEY. Mr. WEMltSS. 
and Mr. JEFFERSON. 



Deacidified using the Bookkeeper process. 
Neutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide 
Treatment Date: March 2009 

PreservationTechnologies 

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